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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319229">Seis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_r/pseuds/x_r'>x_r</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Arrested Development</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, During Canon, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Rimming, forgot that tag originally lol, hence the title...i am sooo original, so this is technically a sequel to cinco, yes this is obnoxiously long and yes i am very sorry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:41:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_r/pseuds/x_r</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Gob’s search for what comes after Cinco eventually leads them right back into each other’s arms.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>George Oscar "Gob" Bluth/Tony Wonder, Tony Wonder &amp; Sally Sitwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Seis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so, first things first, yes, this is a sequel to cinco. it also works as a standalone fic, and it also(like cinco) ties in with the series i'm writing, which is why i haven't marked it as its own series. this one starts where cinco ended and takes place during and then immediately after season 5. </p><p>i had always wanted a fic that was essentially season 5 but from tony's perspective, so that's pretty much what this is. i actually tried to write the whole thing exclusively third-person limited from tony's point of view once, got about 7k done, decided i hated it, and deleted the whole thing. so the final product turned out to be a lot of tony, plus some of me trying to get into gob's head, and then a tiny bit of sally just to mix things up a little. plus a lot(i mean A LOT) of blunder smut at the end, because it wouldn't really be a sequel to cinco if there wasn't any smut. i actually tried to write a fic that was just the smut at one point too, got about 10k done, then(surprise surprise) decided i hated it and deleted the whole thing. apparently it really only works if it's everything together, which is how i wound up with this 35k behemoth.</p><p>although in fairness about 1k of this is literally just tony &amp; gob's dialogue from the show that i put in there to help move things along. i had to type it out myself, too, because apparently there are no transcripts available for season 5, and i used the subtitles instead of actually listening, so there may or may not be a few inconsistencies that i may or may not come back and fix later.</p><p>as for the rest of it, the first approximately 20k mostly alternates between focusing on tony and focusing on gob as they try to work through their feelings post-cinco. some of the scenes don't flow together quite as smoothly as i would like for them to, but since i like them all on their own i've decided not to mess with it. there is a short masturbation scene at one point &amp; at least one other explicit moment, so this would be rated E even if there wasn't like 14k of smut tacked on at the end.</p><p>this SHOULD be canon compliant, i.e. nothing happens that directly contradicts canon, but i'm a little iffy on some of the timeline bc i haven't rewatched the show in a while. i also did not proofread this after uploading it(i did BEFORE uploading it, but sometimes the punctuation &amp; italics get messed up) so i apologize for any typos or weird formatting errors(edit: all typos have been fixed so disregard that). </p><p>i think that's probably everything that needs to be said before reading this. so, uh, enjoy i guess.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">It’s Cinco – the fifth, not the fourth – by the time Tony makes it back to his apartment. His tracksuit – the outfit he’d been wearing when he’d left hours earlier(<em>was it really only hours ago? it seems like an eternity</em>) – is now tucked underneath his arm, covered in glitter and the genetic material of a man he’d convinced himself he’d been hoping to con, the same man who’d provided him with the robe he’s now wearing instead, the same man whose likeness, in the form of a mask, is inexplicably tucked underneath the tracksuit.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The same man who’s probably already taken that pill and forgotten about him, about everything they had. <em>Shit</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That’s not Tony’s biggest regret at the moment, though, not by a long shot. His biggest regret is that, at some point before tonight, before <em>conning Gob</em> had turned into <em>having gay sex with Gob</em> and before <em>having gay sex with Gob</em> had turned into <em>falling in love with Gob</em>, he’d given Sally Sitwell a key.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It had made sense at the time, of course – if you’re dating someone, or ‘seeing’ someone, or whatever you want to call it, if you <em>like</em> someone(<em>does he even like Sally anymore?</em>), or whatever, they should have access to your home, right? Especially if this has been going on for… five years? Six years? How long has he been the gay magician?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Well, since tonight, but that’s not the point.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He can see Sally through the window now, lounging on his couch – laying in wait, it feels like – and he hesitates before turning the doorknob, then pulls his hand back. There goes any chance he had of doing this(‘doing this’ meaning having to explain why he’s not returning from tonight’s excursion an internet billionaire) his own way – over text, or maybe a phone call. Something that would keep a little <em>distance</em> between her and himself, something that would save him from having to look her in the eye and say, <em>hey, so, funny story, turns out I might be in love with Gob Bluth</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He contemplates just staying outside forever – it’s May in southern California, so it’s not like temperature’s an issue, although this breeze on his bare legs might take a little getting used to. Or better yet, just turning around and getting back in his car and driving – well, no, actually, he has nowhere to go, and even if he did, he certainly couldn’t go there with a jizz-covered tracksuit and a Gob mask in the passenger seat. <em>Unless he went back to Gob’s place, tried to stop him from taking that forget-me-now, tried to</em>-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tony?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shit. <em>Shit</em>. That’s Sally’s voice. He’s waited too long trying to find a way out of this, and now she sees him out here. She’s heading towards the door; just a few more seconds and she’ll be prying it open, the judgment overflowing from her voice as she asks him-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What are you doing just standing out there? Come inside.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Well, that’s not the question he was expecting. There’s an odd cadence to her voice, too, something almost resembling… <em>concern</em>? He opens his mouth to respond, then realizes he doesn’t have an answer. He also realizes there was somewhat of an invitation attached at the end there, and he hastily accepts it, shutting the door behind him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And what the <em>hell</em> are you wearing?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Yeah, that’s more along the lines of what he was expecting. On top of that, any trace of what could’ve been misconstrued as concern is now gone from her voice, replaced with something a little more menacing. He’s not sure if she’d saved the question to avoid causing a scene, or if she’s genuinely only just now caught notice of his ensemble – the porch light is off, as are most of the inside lights, to avoid drawing unwanted attention.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The least he can do is fire back an accusatory question of his own – this is his own house, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t come here to be interrogated. “Why are you here?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She’s back on the couch now, but she still looks at him like he’s crazy. “You weren’t answering my texts, so I let myself in. We had an agreement, remember?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“The agreement <em>I</em> remember is that you’d only use the key when I invited you,” he retorts, tossing the tracksuit on top of the Gob mask in the nearest empty chair. “And I told you I had a <em>thing</em> tonight. You knew I’d be busy.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That was the way he’d phrased it – <em>a thing</em>. Not a date, and certainly not a sex date, although the former at least had certainly been implied. Sally had been fine with it, or so she claimed – she’d have to be working the pier with Lucille Austero that night anyway, and she needed the Fakeblock money just as bad as Tony did.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh my god,” she says flatly, looking him up and down. “You <em>actually</em> went through with it.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He considers playing dumb – <em>went through with what</em>, he could ask. Act like he <em>didn’t</em> just come back from Gob’s place, that he <em>didn’t</em> just have gay sex with Gob, that this <em>isn’t</em> Gob’s mini robe that he’s wearing and that <em>isn’t</em> Gob’s DNA all over his tracksuit. Just like he’s been <em>acting</em> like the gay magician all these years. He’s always been good at that. A little <em>too</em> good, it turns out, since tonight it became real.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><span>Or was it </span><em>always</em><span> real</span>?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Has he <em>always</em> been a gay man, living a lie as a straight man, living a lie as a gay man? Or maybe he’s a bi man, living a lie as a straight man, living a lie as a gay man. He’s not sure, and trying to put a label on it has caused him enough problems already.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">All he knows is that he’d been <em>fine</em>, or so he’d thought, sleeping with Sally Sitwell, living a life full of lies and scheming and ill-conceived plots to finance a movie musical. But then he’d gotten to know Gob – gone out with Gob, talked with Gob, <em>slept with Gob</em>, confessed things to Gob – and he’d realized just how much he’d been living without. His life with Sally was supposed to be the real one, the one he’d come back to after he stole the Fakeblock money from Gob. His life with Gob was supposed to be fake, like the gay magician act, just a means to an end. There weren’t supposed to be <em>feelings</em> involved.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sex with feelings – <em>real</em> feelings – isn’t something Tony’s used to, and he wonders if <em>that’s</em> why(aside from, <em>you know</em>, the fact that Gob’s a man) it was so much better than ever before, if <em>that’s</em> why he can’t stop thinking about Gob, about tonight. He keeps replaying every minute of it inside his head, from before the masks came off to when he made Gob cum for the first time, to when Gob made <em>him</em> cum for the first time, to when they’d been cuddling and Gob had brought up the ball thing and he’d said <em>fuck you</em> and Gob had practically <em>begged</em> him to do it and it wasn’t like he was about to say no. And then Gob had reacted like <em>that</em> to just Tony’s <em>fingers</em>, not to mention the way he reacted to Tony’s cock, and then afterward, when they were cuddling again, he’d fallen asleep in Tony’s arms almost immediately, and he’d looked so peaceful that Tony couldn’t help but fall asleep himself.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’d like to pretend that’s where the night ended, or at the very least that it didn’t end the way it did, but he knows better – all of it’s over now, gone with the pill Gob must have swallowed as soon as he left out the window. He’s back with <em>Sally</em>, and for a brief moment that realization fills him with indescribable panic. He quickly shoves it all down, converting it into a makeshift sort of bold overconfidence.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” he replies, sitting down in the empty chair. “Yeah, I did.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For a moment Sally just stares at him, apparently at a loss for words. “<em>Wow</em>,” she says finally. “Just <em>wow</em>, Tony. That’s just – I don’t even know what to say right now.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Then don’t say anything,” he suggests, still sounding much more confident than he feels.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No, I’m gonna say something,” she counters. “I think I <em>need</em> to say something. I think <em>this</em>-” she pauses to gesture at the stains on the tracksuit “-<em>needs</em> to be talked about, Tony. I mean, for crying out loud, is that-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh, <em>y</em><em>eah</em>, it is,” he interrupts.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She just stares at him again, almost like she’d been expecting him to deny it. “Yours or his?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“His,” Tony answers.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, first of all, <em>ew</em>,” Sally replies, wrinkling her nose in disgust.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony feels anger flare up in his chest, but he forces it back down, then forces his eyes to gaze into hers as he waits for the ‘second of all’ that never comes. Their staring match continues, and for a long time they sit there in uncomfortable silence.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Finally, Sally breaks it. She’s not sure what emotion she’s feeling right now, but – perhaps disturbingly – it isn’t surprise. “So what the hell happened tonight?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Most of the judgment is gone from her voice, replaced with a mix of exasperation and genuine curiosity. Tony realizes this is the best he’s ever going to get, so he decides to open up. He <em>needs</em> to talk about it, after all. He needs to tell <em>someone</em>. And it’s not like this is really any different than recapping any other phase of his plan to make Gob fall in love with him, right? Plus, it’s the truth, so it’s not like he has some story to keep straight. He suspects he’d have a bit of difficulty with that at the moment, considering he can’t even keep <em>himself</em> straight.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I went over to Gob’s place,” he replies.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally scoffs. “Yeah, no shit.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I thought you wanted me to start from the beginning,” Tony retorts.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally shakes her head. “I never said that, but go ahead.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Satisfied, he continues. “And that Christian chick was there. You know, uh… <em>her</em>? Anyway, she told me that Gob was straight, and that he was trying to get revenge on me by-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Now Sally looks alarmed. “Gob is <em>straight</em>? <em>Revenge</em> on you? Jesus <em>Christ</em>, Tony, I told you to be <em>careful</em>!” She pauses, her face contorted. “And hold on, if he’s straight…” she trails off, and her eyes dart once again towards the incriminating stains on the tracksuit.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m getting to that, okay?” Tony snaps. He can hear the agitation in his own voice, and he tries his best to tone it down. “I’m getting to that. Just let me tell the story.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Fine,” Sally replies, folding her arms across her chest. “Tell your story.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Thank you,” Tony says half-sarcastically, and he waits a moment before continuing, just to make sure she’s really done. “So anyway, just to recap, I’m at Gob’s place, the Christian chick is there, and she tells me that Gob is straight and he wants to get revenge on me by having sex with her with a Gob mask on.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally’s eyes narrow. “A <em>Gob mask</em>?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, you know, a mask of his face,” Tony explains, silently grateful that the mask in question is currently underneath the tracksuit where she can’t see it. “Like my masks that I use in my act.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, no, that’s what I thought you meant,” Sally replies, her eyes still narrowed. “So, just to make sure I’m hearing this correctly, he wanted to have sex with her while wearing a mask of his own face?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh, <em>n</em><em>o</em>, he <em>didn’t</em>,” Tony corrects, frowning. “She was making that up. He actually wanted to – wait, <em>she</em> would’ve been the one wearing the mask in that scenario. Not him. Why would he wear a mask of his own face?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why would <em>she</em> wear a mask of his face?” Sally counters, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s weird either way, Tony!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Because <em>he</em> would’ve been wearing a mask of <em>my</em> face!” Tony retorts, feeling oddly defensive. “It wasn’t weird in context!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>What</em>?” Sally asks, facepalming. “Tony, that just makes it <em>weirder</em>!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Would you please just let me tell the story?” Tony demands for the second time. She rolls her eyes, and he continues. “But just to be clear, I didn’t know he had a mask of my face. I mean, I knew he <em>had</em> it, because it was on the counter the night he came over and then it was gone when he left and I’m pretty sure I saw him shove it down his pants, but I didn’t know he’d be wearing it with her. She left that part out.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay,” Sally says, with a look on her face that very clearly says <em>just get on with the story already</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So anyway,” Tony continues, “she asked me if <em>I</em> would like to get revenge on <em>him</em>, and I said yeah, so she suggested that the two of us make a sex tape, which would out Gob as gay and ruin his Christian magician career. Then she told me to put on the Gob mask, and said she’d meet me in the bedroom wearing a Tony Wonder mask – which I thought was stupid, because wouldn’t it make more sense for <em>her</em> to wear the Gob mask and me to just be myself? But she said-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay, I think I see where this is going,” Sally interrupts, obviously not in the mood to hear the rest of it. “So he’s in the bedroom expecting a girl in a Gob mask, and you go in there expecting a girl in a Tony Wonder mask, and you… <em>accidentally</em> don’t notice that he has a penis because you’re wearing masks of each other’s faces the whole time?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>No</em>!” Tony replies, again with more emotion than he intended to reveal, and again he has to force himself to calm down before continuing. “We figured it out, like, <em>immediately</em>. I knew it was him, and he knew it was me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And you went through with it anyway?” Sally asks, her face scrunched up in an emotion Tony can’t quite read.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, we took the masks off first,” Tony replies. He keeps his voice casual, but his heart rate is starting to increase. He’s starting to regret opening up to her, too, but he’s in too deep to stop now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<span>Why</span>?” Sally asks half-sarcastically. “So you could blow each other?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Actually, it was so we could kiss,” Tony boldly corrects her. He decides not to mention how Gob’s mask had come off even before that, how the poor guy had been so upset when he’d thought Tony was mad at him that he’d started hyperventilating. He gets the feeling Sally wouldn’t appreciate that particular detail. Defiantly, he adds, “But when we <em>did</em> blow each other, it certainly helped.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally’s eyes go wide for a second, but she quickly recovers. “So that’s all that happened, then?” she asks, attempting to rationalize this encounter while she still can. “You exchanged blowjobs with him?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I never said that,” Tony replies. His heart is suddenly pounding very quickly, and he’s so dizzy he’s pretty sure he’d have just lost his balance if he wasn’t already sitting down. He’s always been good at suppressing his nerves, though, so he forces himself to maintain eye contact with Sally, the look on his face almost daring her to reply.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Tony</em>-” she starts, and for once, there’s a definite uncertainty to her voice.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Don’t worry,” he replies, and it takes everything he has not to lose the confidence in his own. “I wore a condom.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For a minute or so there’s only silence, and Tony realizes halfway through it that he’s forgetting to breathe. His sudden exhale sounds much shakier than he’d have liked for it to, much too obvious that he’d been holding it in, and when he inhales again an audible gasp slips out. It’s an involuntary moment of weakness that passes quickly, but Sally definitely takes notice of it, and her features soften somewhat. She seems to have realized now that this is a much bigger deal for Tony than he’s letting on, that there’s something important he isn’t saying.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She has a feeling she knows exactly what that <em>something</em> is, too, the same <em>something</em> she’d been worried would happen ever since this thing with Gob started, and really ever since Tony had first told her about his gay magician idea. Her first instinct is to say <em>I told you so</em>, but Tony’s obviously struggling with this, and after everything they’ve been through together she can’t just kick the man when he’s down. Not to mention, he’d probably clam up pretty quick if she said that now, and she needs to keep him talking, at least until she finds out whether or not he told Gob about Lucille Austero’s money. After whatever went down tonight at the pier, keeping <em>that</em> part a secret is more important than ever.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So you had sex with him?” she asks, just to confirm, making sure to keep her voice neutral this time and to choose her words carefully. “<em>Penetrative</em> sex?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony nods. “He was super into it,” he replies. Then, feeling slightly guilty, he adds, “We both were.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So Gob <em>is</em> gay?” Sally asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She knows it’s a loaded question – there’s a chance he’ll interpret it as, “So <em>you’re</em> gay?” and then in all likelihood she’ll have to sit through an out-loud internal debate about whether or not topping is less gay than bottoming. Of course, she’s <em>always</em> wondered if Tony’s been faking his alleged attraction to women, herself included – it’s hard not to, especially after observing him ‘pretend’ to be attracted to men. She’s always given him the benefit of the doubt, at least outwardly, but one certainly seems a lot more forced than the other, and it’s not the one he claims is an act.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">In this moment, however, that’s not what she’s asking, and in fact she’s not sure she even wants to know the answer. All she wants to know right now is whether or not she’d been right that George Oscar Bluth II – a man who’s been pinging her gaydar since high school, who’s been known to burst into tears post-coitus and whose aggressive performance of heterosexuality is like a master class on overcompensating – is about as straight as Lindsay Bluth-Funke’s daughter’s hair.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Fortunately for both of them, Tony takes the question at face value.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I don’t know,” he replies, his shoulders shrugging. He’s got that same look on his face now that he’d had when he’d talked about ‘ruining his life with Gob’, almost like there’s some melancholy song playing that only he can hear. This time, though, the seconds are passing and he isn’t snapping out of it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally sighs. This neutral-to-concerned approach, even though she’s only been at it for a minute or two, is <em>exhausting</em>, and she’s barely even getting results. Deciding it might be necessary to be a little more direct, she asks, “Did you at least get the Fakeblock money?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“The Fakeblock money?” Tony repeats, his voice blank. The Sound of Silence fades out then, and he remembers once again that <em>that’s</em> what he was supposed to be doing over at Gob’s place. Not having gay sex, and certainly not falling in love. “Uh, no. I did <em>not</em> get that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally sighs again, and this time her annoyance isn’t quite so well-hidden. “Great, Tony,” she says sarcastically. “That’s just great. And let me guess, you’ve given up on that whole endeavor entirely?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I told him,” Tony admits, abruptly struck with an urge to blurt out the truth, and the words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. “I told him everything. About the Fakeblock money, about the musical, about the $100 grand, about you and me, <em>everything</em>. But-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Are you <em>kidding</em> me?” Sally almost shrieks. Even though she’d half expected it, his audacity blows her mind. “You told him <em>everything</em>?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I did,” Tony replies, his much-too-calm voice in stark contrast with hers. “But it doesn’t matter, because-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It <em>doesn’t matter</em>?” Sally shouts. She no longer cares about being discovered by the neighbors, or that it’s after midnight on a week night and people are trying to sleep. “What the <em>hell</em> is wrong with you, Tony? Do you not understand what you’ve done? Do you not understand how big of a deal this is? This will <em>ruin</em> us, Tony. Both of us. Not just me, but you too. Do you really think <em>Gob Bluth</em> knows how to keep a secret? Listen, I don’t care that you fucked him, okay? I don’t care that you <em>love</em> him, or whatever – <em>yeah</em>, I know how you feel about him! I can see your little sexuality crisis happening behind your eyes! You’re not being subtle <em>at all</em>!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She pauses, maybe to catch her breath or maybe because she’s realized how loud she’s being, and he seizes the opportunity. “You didn’t let me finish,” he says solemnly. “It doesn’t matter, because <em>he’s not even gonna remember it in the morning</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally’s mouth drops open into the shape of an O, the realization dawning on her. “Pills?” she asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Forget-me-nows,” Tony confirms, glumness in his voice. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Lucky break,” Sally remarks. She’d half been bluffing when she’d called him out on being in love with Gob moments earlier, but the way he’d said that last part just now all but confirms it. Somewhere in the very near future, she realizes, she’ll need to take a long, hard look at this relationship – but not tonight. Tonight there’s <em>way</em> too much going on already.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony shakes his head, then buries it in his hands. “And then his brother showed up, and he saw us together-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Michael saw you having sex?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony looks up, confused, then shakes his head again. “No, it was after that. He saw me <em>after</em> we had sex, but it was painfully obvious what we’d done. I mean, the guy could definitely tell. I was wearing Gob’s robe, and I asked him if that was wax he had used on his ass-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><em>That’s</em> one little bit of honesty Sally hadn’t been prepared for. “Okay, well, Tony, I wouldn’t worry too much about that if I were you,” she interjects, if only to stop him from revealing any more details about Gob’s ass. “I saw Michael at Cinco earlier, and he was <em>completely</em> shitfaced. He tried to proposition Lucille Austero for sex, got rejected, did a chicken dance, and fell down the stair car face-first. He’s not gonna remember anything in the morning either.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, well that solves all my problems,” Tony says sarcastically, even though it <em>does</em> solve at least one of them, the one where someone other than himself and Gob – no, <em>not</em> Gob, because Gob doesn’t know anymore, so other than himself and <em>Sally</em> – knows the gay magician act is real.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally shrugs in reply, and for a while they sit there in silence. Tony can’t help but mentally revisit what she’d yelled at him several minutes prior, before the forget-me-now revelation. Does she really <em>not care</em> that he had gay sex with Gob tonight? Does it really <em>not matter</em> to her that he might be, <em>you know</em>, in love with another man? Is there really no lecture coming to him about how she <em>knew</em> it, she <em>always</em> knew it – words he thinks he might’ve already heard once earlier tonight, although not directed at him?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He decides to test it out, because he’s got nothing to lose, and he feels immensely confused and a little helpless after everything that’s happened over the past few hours.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So, just <em>theoretically</em>,” he starts, “what would you do if you were in a situation where you’d been kind of living a lie – as, say, bad example, a gay magician – maybe with masks involved, maybe hiding your feelings behind a mask – I don’t know; I’m just spitballing here – and you needed money for – again, bad example, a movie remake of a musical? Then you met a guy who had the money, and you decided to pretend to fall in love with him so you could steal it, but somewhere along the way it stopped being pretend, and when you went to take off the mask you’d been wearing when you fell in love with him – you know, the gay magician mask – you realized that you weren’t actually wearing one? Like, after you had sex with him, you realized that the feelings were always real – that you always <em>were</em> the gay magician – and you wanted to see him again, but he took a pill that made him forget-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Seriously</em>, Tony?” Sally interjects, frowning.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It’s a hypothetical,” he says quickly. That might’ve been a little too much too soon.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She rolls her eyes, but decides to humor him. “Is it not <em>obvious</em>?” she asks. Tony looks confused, though, so she continues. “If it were me, I’d just call Gob-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Whoa, whoa, <em>whoa</em>,” he interrupts. “I <em>never</em> said this guy’s name was Gob. This is all hypothetical, remember?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally rolls her eyes again, clearly almost at her wits’ end. “Right. Well, if it were me, I would just call this totally made-up hypothetical man tomorrow morning and act like I don’t remember it either. Ask him if we’re still on for our sex date tonight, or some crap like that. He won’t know the difference if he’s living in a roofie circle. It’s like gay magician Groundhog Day. It’s foolproof.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony wants to protest that that’s not the <em>point</em>, that he doesn’t want to <em>trick</em> Gob into sleeping with him again, but he realizes she may be onto something there. If he calls Gob in the morning acting like they haven’t had their date yet, then he at least has an excuse to come over, and he can figure the rest out from there. Plus, if there are cameras in that bedroom, then the whole thing’s on video anyway, which means all he has to do is show Gob the footage…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“That could work for me,” he says out loud without meaning to.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, it <em>could</em>,” Sally replies, “since this is all hypothetical. Of course, it would <em>never</em> work in the real world.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">This catches Tony off guard. “What do you mean?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally stares at him. “You really <em>didn’t</em> read my texts, did you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I told you,” he replies, “I was <em>busy</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He reaches for his phone, and she shakes her head. “Don’t,” she instructs him. “I’ll just tell you. We need to get out of here, lay low for a while.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Surely it’s not <em>that</em> big of a scandal,” he retorts, frowning. “Tony Wonder, known <em>gay magician</em>, has sex with a man? That’s not exactly front-page news.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m not talking about <em>your</em> thing, Tony,” she counters, rolling her eyes. “For god’s sake, not <em>everything</em> is about <em>you</em>. Which isn’t to say we won’t <em>ever</em> talk about your thing, because obviously at some point we’re gonna have to. But no, I’m talking about what went down at Cinco tonight. Someone attacked Herbert Love. Knocked him out <em>cold</em>. And of course, when something like that happens to a congressional candidate, who does everyone look to? The opposition, obviously, aka the woman who’s campaign I’m running. So I go to warn Lucille Austero, but I get to the stair car and what do I find? She’s not there, and the whole thing is covered in <em>blood</em>. It had to have been hers, too. It <em>is</em> the way she always falls. And that’s more blood than anyone can lose and still survive, which begs the question, where’s the body? Dead women don’t just get up and walk away. Someone had to have moved her. So who the hell moved the body? Did they push her, too? Am I making myself a target by just standing there? Am I <em>already</em> a target by association? More importantly, am <em>I</em> gonna be the one who gets the blame for this? I didn’t kill the woman, <em>obviously</em>, but if anyone finds out about the money I stole for you that’s gonna look like one hell of a motive. So I got the hell out of there, and since you weren’t answering my texts I came straight here.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Tony replies, which is all he can think to respond with at the moment. It’s a lot to take in, and he has several questions – one, won’t disappearing in the wake of a scandal look <em>more</em> suspicious than just waiting it out? Two, why does <em>he</em> have to come on this forced vacation? Three, what the hell happens now?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’d halfway been expecting Sally to break up with him on the spot when she found out about the Fakeblock money, but that obviously won’t be happening. Suddenly, he realizes why – he’s in this too deep. They both are. It’s been their dirty little secret for years, the one thing keeping them together and uniting them against the world. If Sally <em>does</em> get blamed for whatever happened to Lucille Austero – and he believes her when she says she didn’t do it, but he has to admit the motive is there – there’s no way she’ll go down without dragging him down with her. It doesn’t matter that he has an alibi, either, <em>especially</em> if his alibi doesn’t remember him being there.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Silently, he makes a plan. He’ll call Gob in the morning, and if Gob answers, he’ll stay. If Gob <em>doesn’t</em> answer, he’ll leave a message, then head out with Sally, and come back as soon as Gob returns the call. That’s the one thing he’s sure of – that Gob will return the call. If anything Gob said earlier tonight was the truth – and it <em>had</em> to have been the truth; he’s sure of it – he’ll return the call. Gob will return the call, and then he’ll come back.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s sure of it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Hey, Gobie. It’s Tony. We still on for our sex date tonight?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob doesn’t return the call.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He thinks about it. He considers it extensively, in fact. Several times his finger hovers over Tony’s number, only to be withdrawn at the last second. He replays the voicemail more than once. His heart melts a little each time he hears Tony’s voice call him <em>Gobie</em>, then shatters completely each time it follows up with<em> we still on for our sex date tonight</em>?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For a moment he’s hopeful – had he somehow planned a <em>second</em> sex date with Tony? Had the night not ended the way he remembers it, with <em>Michael</em> showing up and ruining everything and Tony fleeing out the window and him crying himself to sleep?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s gone over it a thousand times, though, and it always ends just like that. There’s no room anywhere in the timeline for any follow-up plans to have been made. Which can only mean one thing: <em>Tony took a forget-me-now</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony, who’d kissed him tenderly and gently stroked his chest and looked him in the eye and pleaded with him not to take a forget-me-now, had taken a forget-me-now. Tony! <em>Tony</em>, who’d looked so crestfallen when he’d brought up the forget-me-now he’d been planning to take after they had sex, had taken a forget-me-now. <em>Tony</em>!</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob realizes this is his own fault. Tony must have been so devastated by the realization that Gob wouldn’t remember their night together that he’d decided the only proper solution was to forget about it himself. He must have gone out and bought his own bottle of forget-me-nows, or had some already, or maybe he’d even stolen some of Gob’s. That would explain why there was only one left… but <em>no</em>, when would Tony have had time to do that? He never even came back downstairs after they slept together – unless he did it <em>before</em>? But then why would he-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Thinking too much about it is making Gob feel sick, even sicker than he’d felt last night after he force-fed his last forget-me-now to Michael. He dry-heaves a couple times, but nothing comes up.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Maybe he’s wrong. He tries to remember, cursing his weakened memory, if Tony had ever called him <em>Gobie</em> before that moment last night when he was on the brink of orgasm. He knows Tony had called him <em>Gobie</em> a lot <em>after</em> that, but he’s not sure about before. Maybe he hadn’t, and maybe it’s a test to see if Gob remembers. Maybe Tony had purposely called him something he’d never called him before last night as a subtle way of saying <em>I remember. Do you remember too</em>?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But that’s so <em>complicated</em>! Why does everything have to be so <em>complicated</em>? He wishes he could just call Tony and ask, but it doesn’t work like that. If Tony doesn’t remember having sex, then he also doesn’t remember that Gob isn’t really gay – except that Gob <em>is</em> really gay, but Tony doesn’t know that.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><em>Nobody knows that</em>, Gob suddenly remembers. <em>Michael</em> doesn’t know that. Michael’s still passed out on the floor downstairs(he checked, because he keeps hearing noises coming from the attic). Gob’s the only one who knows. He could just forget about Tony and go back to fucking women, but the thought of that makes him dry-heave a third time.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But what other choice does he have? He’s in love with a man who doesn’t even remember him. Unless – what if Tony had called him and left him that voicemail <em>yesterday</em>, and this stupid shitty Sudden Valley reception just hadn’t picked it up until now? Except, if that was the case, Tony would have said something about it last night.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The razor he was just using to shave is still sitting on the side of the sink, and it reminds him, for some reason, of something some guy must have said at some point, something about how the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. <em>Tony took a forget-me-now. Tony doesn’t remember</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It’s been five minutes since he first heard the voicemail. If he leaves now, he can still make it to the Mexican convenience store before the window for forgetting closes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">If he leaves now, he doesn’t have to be gay and alone.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Weeks go by, and Sally’s beginning to regret things.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">First of all, that she skipped town in the first place. The cops aren’t looking for her. They never were. She was never even on their radar. Sometimes a guilty secret really is just a guilty secret, no thanks to Tony and his blabbermouth. Lucille Austero is still officially a missing person, but they’ve got Buster Bluth in jail for evidence tampering – Buster Bluth, who, if Cinco de Cuatro hadn’t been such a crazy night, she probably would’ve suspected of killing Lucille from the beginning. She’s betting he had something to do with Herbert Love’s coma, too, what with that freakishly large fake hand he’d been sporting.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Second, that she brought Tony with her. Of course, when she’d made the getaway plans, she’d had no idea he was spending the night with his dick deep inside Gob Bluth. Well, she’d been suspicious for sure, but she’d still – out of naivety or denial or a mix of the two – been willing to believe there was no way in hell that he’d <em>actually</em> go through with it. Had she been privy to that little piece of information, she probably would’ve booked one plane ticket instead of two, had herself a <em>real</em> vacation instead of this constant reminder that her love life is a fallacy. In her defense, though, those tickets were non-refundable, so she hadn’t had much of a choice.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s been annoying from the very beginning, threatening to pop out of the suitcase every time he hears the word <em>wonder</em>. Ages ago, she very vaguely remembers, she’d found that part of his personality charming – or, at the very least, not obnoxious – but those days are long gone. Their sex life is nonexistent, which she had anticipated, opting to book a two-bed hotel room from the plane instead of a lovers’ suite. She’s starting to feel a little like Lindsay Bluth-Funke, who, gay(?) husband aside, certainly seems to have had the last laugh in the Herbert Love prostitute scandal – from what Sally’s heard, Lindsay’s running unopposed for that congressional seat.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She and Tony hardly talk any more, either; their reluctance to discuss what happened on Cinco has bled over into a reluctance to discuss anything else. The last time she remembers speaking a complete sentence to him was when he shaved his goatee off a few weeks back(because apparently having two pink triangles attached to his face is a little too on-the-<em>chin</em> for a man who’s <em>actually</em> gay) and she told him he looked better without it. He hadn’t even listened, of course, instead choosing to grow it back a few days later. It’s that classic W shape now, the one he had when she met him, although it wasn’t pink back then and it’s certainly pink now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He takes exceptionally long showers most days, and she’s pretty sure she’s heard him moan some variation of Gob’s name in there more than once. The first time that happened, she went out and bought a vibrator, and now she locks him out of the hotel room for a few hours several times a week in retaliation. She’s not content to live like this, though, and she’s got a plan to get things back on track. Either that, or prove once and for all that getting things back on track is completely out of the question. If this doesn’t work, she’s decided, she’s out of here. To hell with Tony. She’ll move on with her life, and he can move on with his.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Deep down, of course, she already knows it won’t work, even though she’s gone to all the trouble of laying out rose petals on and around Tony’s bed, lighting dozens of candles, and getting herself all dolled up in new lingerie she bought just for the occasion. The wig she’s wearing is new, too, not that <em>Tony</em> will be able to figure that out. To him it’ll just look look like a new haircut – that is, if he even <em>notices</em>. She’s pretty sure she could walk around with <em>no</em> wig and no eyebrows either and he wouldn’t know the difference anymore.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He notices <em>something’s</em> up, though, as soon as he walks through the door. “What’s this?” he asks, observing the scene spread out before him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He knows what this is, of course. He’s not as stupid as Sally claims his pink beard makes him look. That’s the closest thing to a conversation they’ve had in weeks, her telling him he looks less stupid without it. But the thing is – and he’s more painfully aware of this now than ever, now that she’s actually trying to seduce him – that this isn’t what he wants. Five years ago, one year ago, even a few months ago, he would’ve been thrilled. Or, at the very least, he would’ve convinced himself that he was thrilled, and that would’ve been enough to get him going.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Now, though, even the deepest concentration he can muster isn’t enough to send the blood rushing to his groin. The only thing that turns him on anymore is Gob – <em>Gob</em>, who still hasn’t called him back yet for some reason, who he’s actually starting to get a little ticked off at, because why <em>hasn’t</em> Gob called him back yet? Was calling Gob first thing the next morning the wrong thing to do? Did he come on too strong? What the hell is Gob’s problem, and why does playing hard to get(if that’s what he’s trying to do) only make Tony want him even more? He imagines Gob laid out on the hotel bed where Sally is, completely naked, and only then do his pants begin to feel a little tighter.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He can use this, though. It’s a little trick he learned a long time ago, thinking about a man while you’re with a woman. In fact, he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about Gob specifically with women before. He did it with the Christian chick, and he’s done it with Sally a couple of times too. He even did it with his brother’s widow once or twice, and that was before he’d even <em>considered</em> being the gay magician.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What does it look like?” Sally asks, bringing him back to the present. She’s got this weird thing she does with her voice when she’s trying to be sexy, and it turns him on about as much as her eyebrows falling off in bed – which is to say, not in the slightest. <em>Think about Gob, think about Gob</em>… okay, he’s good.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It looks like you’re trying to seduce me,” he replies, taking a few steps closer.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Does it?” she asks, reaching for his hand and pulling it towards her mouth. She sucks down around his finger for a moment, which <em>does</em> turn him on – but not for the reasons she intends it to, of course. He’s thinking about Gob again, how Gob did the same thing back on Cinco.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Almost immediately, however, she spits his finger back out, her face contorted in disgust and the moment ruined. “<em>Ugh</em>, what the <em>hell</em> is on your hands?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nothing!” he insists, confused by her reaction – after all, it’s not like she can read minds. “I just washed them, actually, so-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“With soap and water?” she asks, still trying to get the taste out of her mouth.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No, hand sanitizer,” he replies, and suddenly he understands. “Okay, well, in my defense, I didn’t know you were about to do that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Gross,” Sally sighs, shaking her head. “You know what, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is it for us.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony agrees, but he also still has a boner, and it’s been a while since he’s had someone else take care of that for him. Plus, if he can get himself to sleep with Sally one more time, maybe he can go back to fucking women instead of his hand in the shower while thinking about Gob(the fact that he’s planning on thinking about Gob while fucking Sally is irrelevant, <em>obviously</em>).</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I don’t know,” he replies with a shrug, his eyes shifting downward. “I think it might’ve been working.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally’s eyes follow his, and she looks pleasantly surprised by what she sees. “Oh, wow. Okay. Maybe it was.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She reaches forward again, this time unbuckling his belt and letting his pants drop down around his ankles. She slides his briefs down next, then motions for him to sit down beside her on the bed. He does so, and she pulls his shirt up over his head, tossing it aside, then reaches out to stroke his cock.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony closes his eyes and lets his thoughts drift back to Gob. The illusion isn’t perfect – Sally’s hand is smaller than Gob’s, for one, and her nails are a little longer. When she leans in to kiss him, it gets even harder to maintain – her face is a different shape than Gob’s, and where Gob’s jaw was rough with stubble hers is almost <em>freakishly</em> smooth. He has to <em>really</em> focus, really <em>lean in</em> to the fantasy…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, <em>Gobie</em>,” he moans absentmindedly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Immediately the hand wrapped around his dick is gone, drawn back as though it had been burned. “What did you call me?” a voice asks, and the illusion shatters completely. It’s Sally’s, very obviously Sally’s and not Gob’s, and they both know she already knows.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, shit,” Tony whispers. This is why you’re supposed to do this trick with a man whose name you don’t know – with a man who you <em>haven’t</em> slept with, who you’re <em>not</em> in love with. To add insult to injury, he suddenly goes soft.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Oh, shit</em> is right,” Sally replies, jumping to her feet, and nearly two months’ worth of pent-up frustration suddenly erupts from her mouth. “For fuck’s sake, Tony! For <em>fuck’s sake</em>! That’s <em>it</em>! Let’s talk about what happened on Cinco!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay, you know what?” he half-yells, his head spinning from both embarrassment and the impact of the mistake he just made. He doesn’t actually know what himself, so he repeats it for good measure. “You know what?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Somehow Sally’s already back on the other side of the room with her pants pulled halfway up. “No, Tony, I <em>don’t</em> know what!” she yells back. “Please, enlighten me!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Maybe if you-” he starts, but he’s not sure how to finish. He feels completely <em>exposed</em>, and he scrambles to cover himself up. He can’t un-moan Gob’s name, obviously, but he can at least put his clothes back on. He starts with his shirt, then immediately regrets the decision – his limp dick is still flopping around, a pathetic reminder of his flaccid heterosexuality.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Maybe if I <em>what</em>?” Sally shouts back. Her pants are all the way on now, and she’s already buttoning up her shirt. “Had a dick and balls?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>O</em><em>uch</em>,” Tony replies, fumbling with his underwear. “Is that all <em>I</em> am to you, too? A dick and balls?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay, Tony, first of all,” Sally answers, fastening the final button of her shirt, “with you it’s just a dick, <em>one</em> ball, and one ball <em>implant</em>, so no. Secondly, I don’t understand why <em>you’re</em> getting so upset right now. You’re not the one who just got called not only the wrong name but the wrong <em>gender</em> by someone who refuses to admit that his <em>glaringly obvious</em> attraction to other men is anything more than an act!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“There it is!” Tony yells, finally managing to get his pants back on. He feels like he’s just been slapped in the face several times in rapid succession. “I <em>knew</em> you had a problem with it!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I don’t have a problem with you being gay, Tony!” Sally yells back, reaching for a cigarette. “Or bi, or whatever the hell you are! What I <em>do</em> have a problem with is that you won’t come out and admit it! I’ve been putting up with your little ‘I’m not <em>really</em> gay’ shtick for almost seven years now, and all for what? You calling me by a man’s name in a two-bed hotel room? Jesus Christ, I was trying to <em>save</em> our relationship!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Save our relationship?” Tony questions, offended. “If I’m so gay, why do you even want us to <em>have</em> a relationship?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I don’t know!” Sally replies, lighting her cigarette on a candle. “Maybe I just like wasting my time! Or maybe we used to <em>have</em> something, Tony. Maybe we used to be on the same page! Or maybe you just used to be a whole lot better at faking it, and I liked how hard you were trying. But look at us now! You don’t even <em>talk</em> to me anymore!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You don’t talk to me either!” Tony argues. She’s making valid points here, very valid points, and he’s struggling to find a worthy comeback. “You don’t – you don’t care about my needs!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Your <em>needs</em>?” Sally retorts. “I’ve done <em>everything</em> for you, Tony. I stole $100-<em>fucking</em>-k for you, remember? What need of yours have I <em>ever</em> not met? Your <em>need</em> to be with a man?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You just can’t get over that, can you?” Tony asks, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. Maybe he <em>does</em> need to be with a man, one man in particular who hasn’t called him back yet, but she doesn’t have to say it with such <em>vitriol</em> in her voice. “One time. <em>One time</em> I did that!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Just <em>stop</em>!” Sally insists. “Just stop saying that, okay? I know it’s not a one-time thing. <em>You</em> know it’s not a one-time thing. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Tony, what about the blowjobs? The blowjobs you give guys for ‘credibility purposes’, or whatever the hell it was you said? Those weren’t a one-time thing!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay, I told you that in confidence, first of all,” Tony shoots back. “And those were different!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally rolls her eyes. “<em>How</em>?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Because I never fell in love with any of those guys!” Tony blurts out. “There were no <em>feelings</em> involved! It was just sex!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He freezes after he says it, realizing he’s just admitted two things out loud for the first time – one, that putting another man’s dick in your mouth and getting him off undeniably counts as sex, and two, that he’s undeniably(not theoretically, not hypothetically, not maybe-maybe-not) in love with Gob Bluth.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Not that I’m <em>in love</em> with Gob, of course,” he quickly adds, desperate to backtrack. Unfortunately for him, it’s too little too late.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I <em>knew</em> it!” she yells triumphantly. Hearing him finally say it out loud, the satisfaction of being right almost overtakes the dissatisfaction of everything else. “I told you so, Tony! I fucking told you this would happen!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally’s right; she <em>had</em> told him that – but the dreaded <em>I told you so</em> still stings like a bitch, and so does that smug smirk on her face. Had this been her goal the whole time? To bait him into admitting his feelings? He feels small and weak, and he can only see one way out of this corner she’s backed him into: to say the four little words he knows will hurt her the most.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I know you’re bald,” he blurts out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Her eyes go wide, and her mouth drops open, and for a very brief moment Tony’s afraid she might burst into tears. He’s never seen Sally Sitwell cry, never even considered the possibility that Sally Sitwell <em>could</em> cry, and that injured look on her face – for the brief second it appears before morphing back into a glare – shocks him to his core.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Lovely,” Sally remarks, her lips pursed tightly. “That’s just <em>lovely</em>, Tony.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She turns and walks away with her cigarette, and Tony stands there wondering why getting the upper hand hasn’t made him feel any better. He’s remembering now that this is Sally Sitwell, his literal and figurative partner in crime of howevermany years, the woman who was willing to steal $100k to help fund a career choice she freely admits she doesn’t take seriously, the woman who’s stuck by his side through his questionable decision of fucking Gob Bluth’s almost-bride and his perhaps even more questionable decision of fucking Gob Bluth himself, the woman who just today tried to rekindle their old flame and who he repaid by calling her the wrong name. And now he’s gone and drawn attention to the one thing he knows she’s insecure about, just because she said four <em>other</em> little words that he probably deserved?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sally, I’m sorry,” he says, walking up behind her and attempting to place a hand on her shoulder.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She whirls around, fire in her eyes. “No, Tony, <em>I’m</em> sorry,” she shoots back. “<em>So</em> sorry I can’t give you the hairy man chest and the hairy man balls and the <em>disgusting</em> hairy man <em>asshole</em> you so <em>desperately</em> crave! Yes, I have alopecia! It’s genetic, okay? Fucking sue me!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Now Tony is offended – he tries to <em>apologize</em> and she goes straight for the jugular? He’s remembering now that this is Sally Sitwell, the woman who’s <em>never</em> taken his career seriously and freely admits as much, the woman who’s been lying to him about having hair for as long as he’s been lying to himself about being straight, the woman who stole $100k for him just so she’d have something to dangle over his head later on, the woman who probably should’ve broken up with him the moment she found out he’d slept with a man, but who didn’t because she’s too proud to admit that she’d <em>also</em> been wrong about the gay thing being an act. And now he has to stand there and listen to this borderline homophobia, just because he <em>accidentally</em> fell in love with Gob for real?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay, you know what?” he half-yells. “Gob’s asshole wasn’t hairy! It was just as smooth as yours! And it wasn’t disgusting, either! I would know! I stuck my tongue in it!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That last part isn’t entirely true – he’d stuck his tongue <em>around</em> Gob’s asshole, but not actually all the way inside(he’d wanted to, but he hadn’t been sure how Gob would react) – but it gets the point across. Sally looks completely dumbfounded for a moment before regaining her composure.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m sure you did, Tony!” she yells back. “I’m sure you stuck your <em>fingers</em> in it too!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Of course I did!” Tony retorts, no longer sure what he’s trying to prove here. “I had to get it ready for my <em>dick</em>!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Jesus <em>Christ</em>, Tony!” Sally shouts, inhaling deeply from her cigarette. “What <em>else</em> did you do with him?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’ll tell you what else!” Tony answers, his volume increasing. “I had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life! Better than anything I’ve had with <em>you</em>! And he let me cuddle him afterwards, too! He loved it! He even fell asleep in my arms! I don’t think you’ve done that <em>once</em> the entire time we’ve been together. With you it’s always, ‘oh, not right now, I need a cigarette’! Why do you <em>always</em> need a fucking cigarette? Why don’t we ever just cuddle? I mean, look at yourself, Sally! You’re smoking <em>right now</em>!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I am!” Sally screams, waving her cigarette around. “I wonder why!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s mouth opens automatically, and he speaks – no, <em>yells</em> – his next words without thinking. “Did somebody say <em>wonder</em>?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally stares at him, and he stares back. Hearing Tony’s catchphrase in the midst of such an emotionally charged moment shocks them both back to their senses – it’s almost comical, but not quite funny enough to laugh. Laughing seems inappropriate, anyway, considering the circumstances. This is the type of fight you don’t just bounce back from.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Wordlessly, Sally turns around, walks over to the sliding glass door, opens it, and steps out onto the balcony, where she collapses into a chair, her eyes on Tony the entire time. He follows her to the doorway, also without saying anything, and stands there motionless as their staring match continues.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">After a long period of silence, long enough for her to finish her cigarette and then start on another one, Sally sighs. “Look, Tony, I didn’t want it to end like this.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, neither did I,” he agrees, shaking his head. He’s not sure if he wanted it to end at all – true, he feels the way he should probably be feeling about her about another man, and there’s no <em>passion</em> between the two of them anymore. But there’s still <em>something</em> there, some type of feeling.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But let’s face it,” she continues, “we need some time apart. I mean, there have been… <em>problems</em>… even <em>before</em> the whole Cinco thing. It’s not just that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Tony says blankly, staring out over the railing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this, but my dad called this morning,” Sally says. “He thinks I should run for congress in Lucille Austero’s absence. He said he wants to talk to me about it in person, and I told him I needed some time to think.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony doesn’t say anything back, and Sally takes another drag.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But now, after <em>this</em>,” she continues as she exhales, gesturing vaguely with her cigarette, “I think I’ve made up my mind. I’m heading back to Newport Beach tomorrow. You can come with me, or you can stay here. I don’t really care.” She pauses. “Just know, if you <em>do</em> stay, I’m not paying for the room anymore. And I’m taking my suitcase with me whether you’re in it or not.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“That’s fair,” Tony replies. She’s still looking at him expectantly, and he realizes she’s waiting for an answer. If nothing else, he also realizes, if he returns to Newport Beach, he’ll have a reason to call Gob again, figure out what the hell his deal is. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. I didn’t want to be here anyway.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Sally mutters, shaking her head. She looks past him, into the hotel room – where, Tony realizes when he follows her gaze, dozens of candles are still burning themselves out. There’s wax dripping all over the floor, and their housekeeping bill will probably skyrocket.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">At least <em>he</em> won’t have to pay for it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“’<em>mazing Jesus.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Hey, it’s Tony.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Oh. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have picked up.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Where are you?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Oh, um… I’m in a LEM. Where are you?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I’m in a Tumi… suitcase. I think I’m in baggage claim at Long Beach Airport. My assistant’s picking me up, unless she takes another gray Tumi by mistake, then I go to unclaimed. That’s how we lost The Amazing Frederick.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I would’ve claimed you.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I’ll bet. Since I’m getting back in town, I thought I owed you a call.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>So, let’s get together. I mean, I can’t right now. I’ve got this thing I’m stuck in the LEM with.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>That’s the other thing. I don’t think we can actually hang out, anyway. I mean, I’m the flamboyant gay magician. You’re the super straight Christian magician. We’ll taint each other’s brand.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Yeah. I guess we’re… different in the same way.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same, in a different way.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Different…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“…<em>in a same, different way.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>...in a different way, same.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Different, wifferent…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same way.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“…<em>in a same gay way?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Different same.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>It…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Wame.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Wow. Guess that’s over.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Yup. Talk about a sign.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob is doing okay.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s the CEO(or president, or whatever) of a company now, <em>and</em> he owns a trophy store. He’s got a guy whose job is to do whatever he complies, and he’s got a not-super-young-obviously but still age-appropriate girlfriend whose breasts are like two geodes. No one can tell how he feels on the inside, which is the <em>gay and alone</em> he’d been trying to avoid.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">At least, he <em>thinks</em> no one can tell. He lives in fear of every sideways glance from his parents, constant terror that one of these times that look of distaste will be about something other than the usual – that he’s a disappointment and a failure, that they wish he was more like <em>Michael</em>. Those things are fine. The gay thing isn’t. If he even <em>is</em> gay, that is – he’s only slept with a man <em>once</em>(that he can remember), and he’s fucked what must be <em>thousands</em> of chicks. Admittedly, though, he hasn’t done that in months.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He hasn’t taken a forget-me-now in months, either – he’s pretty sure he’s banned from that Mexican convenience store now, and he doesn’t know where else to find them – so he’s <em>remembering</em> things. Not everything – the side effects seem to be lingering, along with the few pounds he’s gained from either stress or withdrawals – but enough to make a difference. It’s not necessarily good or bad, he’s been surprised to find, just <em>different</em>. He’s not used to knowing what day of the week it is, or what month it is, or what he had for breakfast. He’s actually not sure how often he’d been having breakfast when he was taking the pills every day – apparently one of the things forget-me-nows had helped him forget was to eat. Maybe <em>that’s</em> where those few pounds came from, now that he thinks about it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Of course, the company he’s president/CEO/whatever of is a hot mess, and he’s only the boss because Buster killed the old one, and he only bought the trophy store out of impulse and insecurity. Adhir is a lot less compliant than the job title had led him to believe, and on top of it all he hasn’t fucked Joni Beard even <em>once</em>(he’s tried, and it ended in tears). But none of that – <em>none of that</em> – compares to being gay and alone, and <em>especially</em> being gay and alone and receiving a phone call that might mean you’ll be gay and alone forever.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Correction: Gob <em>was</em> doing okay.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“How much of that did you hear?” he asks. It’s the only thing he can think of to say – Tony’s voice is gone, and he’s trapped in the LEM with Kitty again. The words come out betraying his anxiety, which he hates, until it occurs to him that this might be useful – maybe she’ll be turned off enough by it that she’ll leave him alone and he won’t have to fuck her. Except that now she thinks he’s gay(<span>he </span><em>is</em><span> gay</span>), and fucking her might be the only way he can prove that he’s not, and-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Pretty much the whole thing,” Kitty replies, shrugging like it’s no big deal(how dare she? how <em>dare</em> she act like this isn’t a big deal? his life with Tony might be <em>over</em> and she thinks it’s <em>no big deal</em>?). She doesn’t look irritated(uh oh) or turned off(oh no), and <em>oh god is she coming closer</em>? No, no, this is worse, this is <em>much</em> worse than her thinking he’s gay, the idea of actually having to – <em>oh god she’s reaching for his crotch</em> – have sex with <em>that</em>-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Maybe she <em>won’t</em> think he’s gay. Maybe he can convince her he just has erectile dysfunction now. He’s done that before, right? With his dad in the Mexican convenience store? And he’s certainly not about to pop a boner under the current circumstances. The straightest man <em>alive</em> couldn’t pop a boner under the current circumstances.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Except that he needs her to think that he <em>is</em> the straightest man alive, so he tries thinking about Tony – even though that never worked with Joni Beard. Thinking about a man to get hard with women doesn’t work when you’ve actually <em>been</em> with that man. He can’t do it anymore. He needs the real thing now. And thinking about Tony after that phone call is about to make him cry, probably even more than he cried with Joni(which was only a few tears, so it <em>barely</em> even counts), so he stops.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But I know what’ll make you feel better,” Kitty continues, and suddenly he’s all too aware again that she’s trying to seduce him, and he has to force himself not to shudder in revulsion. He wants to run away, but there’s nowhere for him to go inside this shiny metal death trap. At least she didn’t touch his crotch; at least she withdrew her hand at the last moment to – <em>oh god please no…</em><span> not that. Anything but </span><em>that</em><span>.</span></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It’s touching the hem of her shirt. Both of them are, and they’re lifting the fabric. “Say hello…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><em>O</em><em>h dear god</em>. Oh <em>please</em> no. Oh <em>god</em>. He can’t do this. He <em>can’t</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“… to <em>these</em>,” Kitty finishes proudly, her bare chest on full display.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It’s bad. It’s <em>really</em> bad. It’s worse than Gob remembers. The nipples are crooked, and one of them is bigger than the other, and it looks like at some point in the past someone tried to fix a bad boob job with a worse boob job, and <em>Tony doesn’t want to see him anymore</em>, and he’s not sure if he’s ever been this nauseous before in his life, and good <em>god</em> Kitty is <em>repulsive</em>, and <em>what if he’s not even same with Tony</em>-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">What happens next happens so quickly that he doesn’t even register it, at least not until he looks down and sees his half-digested lunch splattered across the floor of the LEM. It catches him completely off guard, even though he’s been gagging looking at her all day, even though he could taste bile when she did that thing with the gum. He quickly presses a hand to his mouth – in shock, embarrassment, or to stifle another gag; he’s not sure which – and he realizes his fingers are shaking. His arm is shaking, too. His whole body is shaking, and Kitty is glaring at him in disgust.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay, I get it,” she says, pulling her shirt back down(thank god; it probably would’ve happened again if she hadn’t). “This isn’t happening.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He opens his mouth, but he’s not sure what he’s trying to say – <em>hey Kitty, wait, </em><em>I just ate some bad seafood, we can still fuck on top of this steaming pile of vomit</em>? That’ll get her going. Oh god, knowing Kitty, it actually might. He closes his mouth.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She doesn’t seem to have noticed that it was ever open. She’s hitting a button on the control panel – wait, what’s happening now? The door is popping back open – <em>the door is popping back open</em> – did she know that was there the entire time? <em>Di</em><em>d she plan this whole thing on purpose</em>? Were they never even trapped? <em>If this was all a setup</em>-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Wordlessly, Kitty climbs through the open door, then back down the ladder. Tears form in Gob’s eyes, and he quickly blinks them away. He can’t cry right now. He has to explain himself. He has to convince her that he isn’t gay, that this isn’t what it looks like.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Kitty,” he yells, starting after her down the ladder, “Kitty, <em>wait</em>!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony wishes he’d waited to make that phone call.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’d had every right to be mad at Gob, he’d convinced himself – which he <em>was</em>, he’d also convinced himself, at least until he heard Gob’s voice again. It’s impossible to stay mad at that guy, even if he’s to blame for the end(<em>possible</em> end? Tony’s not sure if he and Sally are actually broken up, but he <em>i</em><em>s</em> pretty sure they’re not currently on speaking terms) of your single longest relationship. Especially if you were never really mad at him to begin with, and you regretted saying you couldn’t quote-unquote ‘hang out’ with him as soon as the words left your mouth.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But now – what if they’re not even <em>same</em> anymore? Tony’s sure the conditions surrounding the conversation had something to do with their disconnect. It’s a lot easier, after all, to be <em>same</em> with someone when you’re in the same room with him and can see his face. When you’re alone in the dark in a suitcase, and he’s… wherever he said he was, <em>of course</em> you won’t be completely in sync with him, right? <em>Right</em>?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally hadn’t helped him much with that, once she <em>finally</em> showed up to let him out of the suitcase. They’d taken separate taxis back to their respective destinations, and she’d left him on read when he texted her the question. She must still be mad at him, which he decides is fine. Maybe he’s mad at her a little bit too.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His apartment feels <em>emptier</em> than usual now, now that he’s pretty sure Sally won’t be coming back for a while – and, apparently, neither will Gob. Of course, it’s not like there’s <em>ever</em> been much evidence that anyone other than himself has ever spent a significant amount of time there – Sally’s always been insistent on leaving no trace of herself behind, not even a toothbrush or a change of clothes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Which is why, when Tony enters his bathroom for the first time in nearly two months, he’s surprised to find that black mini robe hanging on the back of the door. He’d left it there after his shower that first morning, he remembers after a moment, and subsequently forgotten about it. The Gob mask is in the back of his closet somewhere, and the tracksuit he’d worn to Gob’s place is probably still in the dryer. But he doesn’t care too much about those – he’s not quite ready to look Gob in the mask yet, and it’s not like he doesn’t have other tracksuits he can wear.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The robe, though – the robe brings back memories. Gob had been wearing it on Cinco, the night they (and not for lack of a better term)made love to each other. He’d taken it off before they started, of course, and he’d given it to Tony afterward, but that doesn’t change the fact that it had spent time wrapped around his body.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It still smells like him, too. He’d been wearing this cologne that night, and every night that Tony had seen him, cologne that he had bragged about – apparently he’d swiped it from Mark Cherry’s place before he got kicked out, using a sleight of hand technique so advanced even the security cameras were fooled. Tony’s not sure how much of that story he believes, and the cologne hadn’t seemed like anything super special, but Gob had clearly wanted so badly for Tony to be impressed by it that, yes, okay, maybe his feigned enthusiasm wasn’t <em>entirely</em> feigned after all.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony buries his face in the robe for a moment, inhaling Gob’s scent and letting the memories overtake him. He’s pretty sure now that it had stopped being about Fakeblock money even before that first night was over – something about that crooked smile had had him hooked on Gob Bluth right from the start. Why was it so easy to fall in love with this man, and why does the thought of never seeing that crooked smile again hurt so much more than things (potentially)being over with Sally?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Eventually, of course, the scent fades away, and Tony remembers that he should probably check his mail. After all, he’s been out of town for well over a month, and he’d left in such a hurry he hadn’t had time to enlist a neighbor to look after it. He returns from the mailbox with his arms full, then dumps everything out on the kitchen counter.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It’s mostly fan mail, mixed in with a few bills and… something about gay tastemakers? Great, another stupid awards ceremony he has to show up at. They’ve sent him several different letters, too. They must <em>really</em> want him there. Sighing to himself, he rips one open. At least these things usually come with a goodie bag at the end, and the drunken attendees typically make for a pretty enthusiastic crowd.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Oddly enough, though, this letter doesn’t mention any awards ceremony. There’s an address written down, and a request for his presence ‘at his nearest convenience’. He has to admit, his curiosity is piqued. Could this be something Gob set up? It doesn’t really seem like Gob’s style, though, although after that phone conversation earlier he’s not sure what Gob’s style even <em>is</em> anymore.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony spends several minutes thinking it over, then decides to check it out. His ‘nearest convenience’ is technically right now, so he tucks the letter in his pocket and heads for the door.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Once he arrives at the address, however, he’s beginning to think he’s being punked. That, or he made a mistake when he typed it into his GPS. Even after double-checking, though, the address written on the paper he’s holding in his hand matches the destination displayed on the screen.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The thing is, it’s a fucking rock quarry. It’s a trailer in a fucking rock quarry. What kind of ‘gay tastemaker’, or whatever the hell, chooses a rock quarry as their headquarters? He’s having major doubts at this point, but he’s already gone to all the trouble of driving all the way out here, so he may as well hang around and see if he can figure out what the hell is going on.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He walks up to the trailer and peers into the window. Inside, he sees several men – the oldest by far, the one seated behind the desk, looks vaguely familiar, although Tony can’t figure out where he might’ve seen him before. He can’t figure out what they’re saying, either, unfortunately, which means no listening for the word wonder before making his grand entrance.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Undeterred, he decides to take a gamble.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Did somebody say <em>wonder</em>?” he asks, flinging open the door. He holds off on the smoke and glitter – he’s still not entirely convinced he’s in the right place, and he knows from past experience that illusions on the wrong crowd tend to go unappreciated.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m afraid we didn’t,” the man behind the desk replies, “but really, how kind of you to finally grace us with your presence. I’m Argyle Austero. Please, sit down. I <em>insist</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony hesitates, and two of the other men in the trailer take it upon themselves to escort him into a chair. He’s never liked being manhandled, though, and he pops back up defiantly the minute they let go of him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I think I’ll stand,” he counters, still unsure what’s happening here.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Suit yourself,” the man who introduced himself as Argyle replies, standing up himself. Tony can see now that this guy is tall, <em>very</em> tall, perhaps even taller than Gob, and his own short stature suddenly leaves him feeling at a disadvantage.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know what, maybe I will sit down,” Tony concedes, lowering himself back into the chair. “I’ve been working out all morning. Strength training, and some cardio. My legs are a little sore.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Argyle responds, resuming his own prior seated position. The tone of his voice is borderline condescending, and the corners of his mouth are tilted upward into a slight smirk – almost as if to say, <em>yes, that was a power play, and it absolutely worked</em>. “After all, Mr Wonder, you <em>are</em> our guest of honor.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony stares at Argyle in confusion. “Yeah, about that, what exactly-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“We were beginning to worry our letters weren’t reaching you,” Argyle continues, his smirk still etched into his face. “Weren’t we, boys?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sure were, Boss,” one of the other men replies. The others nod in agreement, each sporting a similar facial expression.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, well, I’ve been out of town for a while,” Tony says uneasily. He still has no idea where this is going, and he’s beginning to think these people’s intentions with him are a bit less than benevolent. “You know, business stuff.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Completely understandable,” Argyle responds, his smirk only widening. He’s looking at Tony the way a shark looks at its next meal, and the alarm bells in Tony’s head are starting to go off with more urgency. “And as far as understandings go, and businesses as well for that matter, mine seems to be that you’re in the business of illusions. Or, rather, your business <em>is</em> an illusion?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Good one, Boss,” one of the other men says.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m an illusionist, yes,” Tony says, his brow noticeably creased in confusion.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And quite a successful one,” Argyle adds, nodding. That smirk of his isn’t going away, and Tony doesn’t care for it in the slightest. “You’ve managed to hoodwink a great deal of people, Mr Wonder. But not us.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m sorry?” Tony asks, more confused than before.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“He’s not getting it, Boss,” says the guy who’s standing menacingly over Tony’s shoulder.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Not getting what?” Tony asks, his confusion reaching a crescendo. A part of his brain is screaming at him to run, but there’s a larger part that refuses to do so without getting some answers first. <em>What the hell has he just walked into</em>?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Let’s cut the bullshit, Mr Wonder,” Argyle says, propping his legs up on the desk. “We know you’re straight.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony freezes. Argyle is still talking, but he can no longer hear the words over The Sound Of Silence blaring in his head. He’s <em>not</em> straight, of course – he’s known that since Cinco – but there’s no way in hell he’s about to admit it. Even if he wanted to, he <em>couldn’t</em> – the only proof he has is Gob, and Gob took a forget-me-now. He can’t just out a guy who doesn’t even remember he has something to be outed for. And there’s no way he can possibly explain to these guys that the <em>real</em> illusion is that he was ever a straight man. After all, who would possibly believe that a gay(or bi?) man would pretend to be a straight man pretending to be a gay man? It’s much, <em>much</em> too complicated. And embarrassing. And Tony really, <em>really</em> doesn’t like to be embarrassed.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">So he decides to stick to the original story, the one where he’s a straight man pretending to be a gay man for business reasons. In these people’s minds, at least, he can be that man, the man who just wants to finance a movie musical remake, the man who’s <em>not</em> in love with another man who doesn’t remember him and who might not even be <em>same</em> with him, the man who fucks women and enjoys it and doesn’t <em>ever</em> think about men during and who <em>didn’t</em> accidentally moan a man’s name yesterday when his longtime secret sort-of girlfriend was trying to seduce him and then lose his boner.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Of course, there’s another issue here too, which is that somebody at some point must have told these guys his secret. He can only think of three people who even know, which means it had to have been one of them. The first is Sally Sitwell, who he highly doubts would be going around telling people he’s straight – first of all, she knows he isn’t, and secondly she has just as much to lose if anyone were to find out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The second is Gob, who <em>couldn’t</em> have been going around telling people – he <em>doesn’t remember</em>, for crying out loud. And if he <em>did</em> remember that Tony is ‘straight’, he’d of course also remember that Tony, well, <em>isn’t</em> straight.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The third is <em>her</em>, whatever her name is. The Christian one. The one who may or may not be pissed off about all that child support he hasn’t been paying. She seems like the most likely candidate.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Who told you?” Tony asks, forcing the music in his head to stop playing. “Was it <em>her</em>?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh-uh-uh, Mr Wonder,” Argyle scolds, shaking his head and wagging his finger. “Unlike <em>some people</em>, we’re not so keen on revealing such delicate information to just any old fool. Let’s just say it was a <em>very</em> reliable source, and leave it at that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh-huh,” Tony replies, frowning slightly. “Well, you got me, man. It’s all an act. I’m totally straight. I’ve never even <em>looked</em> at another man. Again, though, like you said, sort of a delicate topic, so I think we can all agree that this doesn’t leave this room. And who knows, maybe in the future I’ll do a show for you, pro bono, sort of a token of gratitude for-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony had been trying to stand up to leave, almost without even realizing it – his subconscious desire to escape has begun to manifest itself physically. The hand that suddenly appears on his shoulder, though, forces him back down into his chair with a strong enough grip that he goes silent mid-ramble.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Not so fast, Mr Wonder,” Argyle chides. “You’re not going anywhere. At least, not until you’ve agreed to our <em>terms</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Terms?” Tony repeats, bewildered. The hand that had remained clamped down on his shoulder loosens its borderline-painful grip, its owner apparently satisfied that he’s gotten the message, and he reaches up to rub the spot where it had been almost reflexively.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Argyle’s smirk morphs into a full-on Cheshire grin. “Oh, Mr <em>Wonder</em>,” he replies. “You really <em>haven’t</em> realized who we are yet, have you? You poor ignorant little thing. Of course, the Gay Mafia moniker is primarily tongue-in-cheek, but we’re not about to let a man who caricatures our sexuality for his own personal financial gain walk out of here with only a bruised ego. Oh, no. You’re gonna have to <em>pay</em> for what you’ve been doing all these years. Boys, the contract?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Two of the younger men – <em>lower ranking mafia members</em>? Tony wonders with an increasing sense of panic – disappear for a moment into the adjoining room, only to return seconds later with a thick stack of paper. They place it on the desk in front of Argyle, and he flips through it to the end.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Suddenly a pen is being thrust into Tony’s hand, and he grabs onto it for no reason other than the fact that he’s in dire need of something to cling to right now. Argyle spins the contract around and motions to a dotted line at the bottom of the page.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“If you know what’s good for you,” he informs Tony, “you’ll sign here.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s not sure why he does it, even in the moment – his hand writes his name seemingly of its own accord. In his defense, of course, he’s currently mild to moderately afraid for his life, and he doesn’t particularly want to find out what might happen if he refuses.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And date it here,” the guy standing behind him instructs. Again Tony obeys without thinking, watching his hand jot down today’s date as though detached from his body.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Excellent,” Argyle remarks, whisking the contract away and handing it back to the two men who’d retrieved it. “Make a few copies of that, would you? Wouldn’t want to risk him waving his little hand and making the original <em>disappear</em>. And since he’s been such a good sport about the whole thing, let’s go ahead and give him one to hold onto.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yes sir, Boss,” the guys reply, returning to the other room.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Now,” Argyle continues, turning back to Tony, “I’m sure you’re wondering – see what I did there? – what in god’s name you’ve just agreed to. You’ll see it for yourself in a moment, of course, but I’ll go ahead and fill you in. First things first, we’re not <em>monsters</em>. You’ll get to keep doing your little magic tricks, seeing as you possess no real skills and therefore no other way to make a living, but continuing to call yourself The Gay Magician is out of the question. And because we’re <em>really</em> nice, we’ve already found you a new job. You see, there’s an opening in a theater in Branson-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Branson</em>?” Tony repeats, suddenly stunned out of his stunned silence. He’s been to Branson a couple of times over the years, back when he was touring as a non-gay magician. He doesn’t remember much about it, though – mainly just how far away it is from anywhere he’d want to be.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yes, Branson,” Argyle confirms. “Some say it’s like if Vegas had an ugly little hillbilly stepsister. Or so I’ve heard, anyway. Myself, I’ve never been. Missouri sounds much too much like <em>misery</em> for my liking – but then again, I suppose that’s the point.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">This elicits a chuckle from everyone but Tony, who’s beginning to feel like he’s trapped in a nightmare. ‘Gay mafia’ sounds like a joke he would’ve made to Sally, or that she would’ve made to him – <em>careful pretending to be gay, the gay mafia might get you</em>. Except that they’re real, and they have, and <em>he</em> <em>isn’t</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You’ll start after the fourth,” Argyle continues, “which gives you time to get your affairs in order. Say your goodbyes, burn your bridges. Just don’t tell your fans where you’ll be going. That contract has a <em>strict</em> clause of silence, for reasons that should become very clear to you shortly.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The phrase ‘clause of silence’ abruptly sends Tony flashing back to years earlier, when he’d sat in the bar area at the Gothic Castle meeting with a man whom he believed to be a magician and another man whom he believed to be a magician’s assistant about putting the two of them on a magic DVD – <em>Use Your Allusion</em>, which had never panned out. It had been too much of an ordeal trying to work an allusion into every act, and plus he’d found something better – the gay magician act – soon after.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And now he’s losing it – not only the level of success being the gay magician had finally skyrocketed him to, but the man he’d once believed to be a magician’s assistant, who turned out to be a magician, a magician he fell in love with years later, which made his gay magician act legitimate, which means this whole punishment is pointless? If he goes to Branson – which has got to be upwards of a thousand miles away from Newport Beach – there’s no way this thing with Gob will end up working out the way he wants it to. There’s no way he’ll ever get to see that crooked smile on that handsome face ever again. He won’t even get to hear Gob’s voice on the phone again, lamenting the fact that they won’t get to see each other.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What the fuck, man?” he blurts out. “I hope you made David Geffen sign one of these contracts. And Doug Henning, and N-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Mr Wonder, calm <em>down</em>,” Argyle scolds, cutting Tony off before he makes it even halfway through his list of fake gays(which, even as he says it, he’s beginning to have second thoughts about). “Those men you listed? All genuine homosexuals, I can assure you. Just don’t ask me how I know.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">This elicits a round of chuckles from the other men in the room, along with an eyeroll from Tony.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And anyhow,” Argyle continues as the laughter dies down, “the punishment fits the crime. You’ll stay in Branson for seven years – which, if you’ll recall, is about the same amount of time you’ve been doing your gay magician song and dance – and then you’re free to go wherever you please. Hell, come back here for all I care. Of course, if and when you do return, you still can’t be The Gay Magician. But seven years is an awfully long time, certainly more than enough for you to figure yourself out a new gimmick. For now, just think of it as one last trick – your big final disappearing act.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Disappearing act?” Tony repeats as Argyle’s goons share another chuckle. “You know, that’s not really my thing. I’m more of a popping-out-of-stuff kind of guy.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear,” Argyle replies, leaning forward. “We’re not offering you a choice, Mr Wonder. You’ll do as we say, or you really <em>might</em> find yourself encased in cement at the bottom of the ocean.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What?” Tony says blankly. He’s starting to get the picture, though, and he’s not loving what he sees.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Really, we’re letting you off easy,” Argyle continues, looking him over disapprovingly. “If this were any other mafia, we’d just take you out back and have you shot. Or maybe push you down a flight of stairs, make it look like an accident. Slip a little something into your glass of wine, toss a molotov cocktail into your bedroom window, cut the brake line on your car-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, okay, I get it,” Tony interrupts, glaring. “You want me dead.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Only <em>symbolically</em>, Mr Wonder,” Argyle corrects with a dismissive wave of his hand. “A fake death for a fake gay – what better way for you to learn your lesson?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony can think of at least one, but he doesn’t say anything. He can’t exactly point out that he’s already learned his lesson, not without revealing way too much.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“We’ll let you work out the nitty gritty details of your unfortunate demise,” Argyle continues. He stands up, paces for a moment, then sits down on the edge of his desk. “I’m assuming you’ll want something flashy, something public – there’s a 2<sup>nd</sup> of July parade coming up that should fit the bill. Bonus points if you manage to work cement into your performance.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And what happens if I refuse?” Tony counters. He has other questions too, like why the topic of cement keeps coming up, but that one seems like the most important. In his head, though, he’s already resigned himself to his fate – maybe he <em>deserves</em> to go to Branson. Maybe that’s what he needs right now, anyway, to put some distance between himself and Gob and Sally.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><em>Hello darkness my old friend</em>…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I wouldn’t go down that route if I were you, Mr Wonder,” Argyle replies, vaulting himself up from the desk with a disturbing amount of agility for a man his age. “We’ll see to it that your career isn’t the only thing we bury that day. And then-” he launches suddenly into a tap-dance routine “-I’ll tap-dance on your grave. Your call.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Argyle’s goons are chuckling yet again, but the laughter doesn’t phase Tony. In fact, he barely even hears it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">All he can hear is The Sound of Silence.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Kind of thought you weren’t gonna show.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Hey, man, look. I know you’re still upset, alright? I screwed up, okay? I know we were supposed to hang out and see each other on the fourth of May and take forget-me-nows and… I just chickened out, man. Plus, there wasn’t a fourth of May this year.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Crowd.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Look, I felt bad about the whole thing. I mean, you said this was an important gig and I figured I had to show.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Yeah, well, the truth is, this was never about the gig. I did this whole thing just to see you one last time.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Wow. Well, the truth is, for me, I kind of did the same thing for you. I mean, I just wanted the chance to see you one last time and say goodbye. Crowd!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>If you really feel that way, maybe we don’t have to say goodbye.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>What do you mean?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I mean, the problem was, like you said, that we couldn’t be together without branding each other’s taint.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>No, it’s, uh, tainting each other’s brand, but same dif.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Dif. Same!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same dif.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>But if this… oh, I thought you were gonna… you’re gonna say one more?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Nah, it’s okay. We don’t have to always be in sync all of… crowd!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Crowd! Look, what I’m saying is, if this trick goes off like I think and the yahoos in the stands don’t realize that all we’re doing is just folding some clothes and slipping through our trapdoors and crawling under the float to switch closets, then…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Right. When you come out sashaying like Ms. Barry Zuckerkorn…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>And you’re as straight as Bob Loblaw at a high school prom…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I don’t know who that is.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Oh, he’s an attorney we were forced to use one year and he… I guess he likes them young. But, uh, we pull this off and we got a show, man. We could hit the road together, you know? Hotels, and… share a room…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Yeah. Um… there’s only one problem with your plan. I don’t have a trapdoor in here.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>What? Oh. Oh, come on! So we’re just two men who went into a closet and changed coats? Alright. Well, this is an audience of people too stupid to get out of town on a holiday weekend. They’re not gonna expect the thing to take a twist. So we’ll just, you know, we’ll pull one from the old magic playbook. We’ll sell it with our smiles. By the way, I can’t wait to see you out there. Same!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For a moment, Gob feels like he’s back in the boulder. It doesn’t quite register at first that, were he still in the boulder, his hands would be cuffed behind his back – and they certainly aren’t, because he’s certainly using them right now, opening and closing that closet door repeatedly. Almost like, if he does it enough times, the cement will disappear and Tony will be standing inside of the closet, alive and well and completely unharmed, and he’ll shoot some glitter out of his sleeve and be like <em>ta-da! The cement was fake! Just an illusion, unlike my feelings for you! Let’s hit the road together, Gobie!</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">When that doesn’t happen, and when he realizes that – despite the feeling that the walls are closing in on him, despite the fact that he can barely breathe and can barely move and certainly can’t think – he’s not in the boulder anymore, he takes off, unable to look at the closet float that was supposed to cement(<em>oh, god, but not like THAT</em>) his relationship with Tony for even a second longer. He’s not sure where he’s going, and he stumbles over his own feet several times in his haste to get away(<em>go away, get away, you’re hopelessly hopeless</em>… he’s starting to feel like that song is about him).</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Someone catches him before he gets too far away, holding him in place.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tony?” he asks, unable to see clearly. His head is still spinning, both from the rush of emotions and the dizziness of running too far too fast on unsteady feet, and his vision refuses to focus.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No, Gob, it’s us,” a voice says. It’s a familiar voice, an almost <em>comforting</em> voice, but it isn’t Tony’s. Neither is the face that just came into his view. There’s three faces, in fact, and <em>none</em> of them are Tony’s. It’s the guys from the closet store – the guys who must have betrayed him, the guys who must not have built a trap door into Tony’s side of the float, the guys who-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>No</em>!” he shouts, attempting to break away from them. His legs don’t want to work, though, and instead he nearly falls over, unable to fight any longer. “You – <em>you</em> – y-y-you – <em>Tony</em> – come on – c-come on, <em>come on</em>, c-come on – n-no trap door in the – should the <em>guys</em> – the guys who d-<em>didn’t</em> p-p-put a tr-trap door in the – r-<em>really</em> be c-comforting the g-guy, the guy who just lost his – his – his, <em>his</em>, his – <em>Tony</em>-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Get him a chair,” Gob hears someone say as he feels his legs threaten to give out underneath him. Someone else grabs a folding lawn chair, likely left behind by a parade-goer, and places it behind him just in time for the inevitable to happen. Gob collapses into the chair, his face buried in his hands and his chest heaving. He’s not sure when he started crying, but the tears are flowing freely now, running down his face and dripping down onto his special expensive custom-made 4<sup>th</sup>-slash-2<sup>nd</sup> of July suit.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He doesn’t want the hands that are now gently massaging his shoulders, doesn’t want the gesture of comfort from someone who almost certainly contributed to Tony’s… oh, <em>god</em>, he can’t even <em>say</em> it, can’t even <em>think</em> about what might have just happened to Tony – but at the same time, he desperately needs it, desperately needs someone to rub his back and wipe away his tears and tell him everything is going to be okay, so he doesn’t try to stop it from happening.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">After all, he’s not used to anyone caring enough about him to bother.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You’re gonna be okay, Gob,” somebody tells him. He wants to protest that he’s <em>not</em>, not if Tony isn’t, but he’s sobbing too hard to get the words out. Somebody is offering him a tissue – maybe the same somebody who just tried to reassure him, maybe not; he’s in no condition to tell the difference – and he accepts it, attempting the near-impossible task of cleaning himself up. He knows people are staring at him, staring at the newly-gay magician who just ran away from his trick.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What <em>happened</em>?” Gob asks finally, once he can finally speak again. There’s several other questions wrapped up into that one, namely <em>how could you</em> and <em>why would you do this to me when I trusted you</em>. His eyes are raw and red, and his face is puffy, and he knows the hurt he’s feeling is etched into his expression. <em>Good</em>, he thinks. He wants them to see it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, to be honest, we’re not sure,” one of the closet store guys replies, scratching his head. “We don’t know where the cement truck came from, and we don’t know where Tony is or what was going through his mind when it happened. But we can tell you this much, Gob: there <em>is</em> a trap door in that closet.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob’s heart stops beating for a second, then starts up again faster than ever. “<em>What</em>?” he asks. If there’s a trap door in there, that means there’s a chance Tony could’ve escaped. <em>That means Tony might not be</em>… that Tony could <em>still be alive</em>. Living, and breathing, and planning his next move.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“We tested it out ourselves this morning,” another one of the closet guys chimes in. “Everything was working perfectly. Both trap doors were fully functional.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But Tony said…” Gob starts. His heart rate is still increasing, to the point where, if his mind wasn’t entirely occupied by Tony, he’d be worried his chest might explode.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, we heard what Tony said,” the first closet guy replies. “Everyone did. Your mics were hooked up to the speakers, which wasn’t our doing either. Look, Gob, I don’t want to upset you, but I think Tony might’ve been-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, come on, Jake, hasn’t the poor guy been through enough?” the second closet guy interjects. “Give him a moment to recover before you plant the seed in his brain that the man he’s in love with was planning to-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He cuts himself off before finishing his thought, and Gob looks to the third closet guy, the cute one who’s also so dumb. “Gob, that closet has a trap door,” the guy says helpfully. “You can see for yourself.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob doesn’t need to be told twice. He jumps up, suddenly full of nervous energy, and takes off back towards the float as fast as his feet will carry him. He flings open the door to the closet, the one that isn’t filled with cement, yanks open the trapdoor, and lowers himself down into the space beneath the float. Were he thinking clearly, he’d have just gone under the side, but his mind is elsewhere right now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It’s dark down there – much darker than it should be, it feels like, now that one of the closets is occupied by a massive block of cement – and there’s barely enough room to crawl around in. Again Gob is reminded uncomfortably of the weeks he spent trapped inside the boulder, but he fights through his newfound claustrophobia long enough to make it to the other side.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It feels even darker over here, dark enough that he has to rely on touch instead of sight. It smells like cement, too, and he’s <em>really</em> starting to feel like he’s running out of air, but he manages to reach up and feel for the indentations where he knows the edges of the trapdoor should be.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">When his fingers find them there, he nearly cries with relief. <em>Tony had a way out</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Of course, there’s no way of knowing if he actually took it – there’s no one down here save for himself, and if Tony was ever underneath the float he’s long gone now. But there was <em>absolutely</em> time for that to happen – he could’ve stayed here until the end of the parade, then made his escape when Gob ran away from the float. It seems possible. <em>Likely</em>, even. It <em>has</em> to have been what took place.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony <em>has</em> to be okay.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob doesn’t consider the other possibility anymore, nor does he bother to dwell on the other facts – that Tony must have been planning this and didn’t tell him, and that he just came out of a closet in a gay way in front of all of Orange County. None of that matters right now. What matters is that Tony got out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He got out, and he’s alive somewhere, and Gob just has to find him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony finds that sometimes things have a way of working themselves out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It worked out that the gay mafia runs a cement business(which, of course, explains the rock quarry and all the references to cement), and that they were willing to ‘help Tony disappear’ in a way that also allowed him to see Gob(‘a magician friend of mine’, he’d told the gay mafia) one last time. It worked out that he got to go out with a bang – or at least a few tons of quick-dry cement – instead of fading quietly into the night like some has-been. It worked out that the microphones were so easily rigged to the speaker system, so that everyone heard his little fib to Gob that there wasn’t a trap door in his closet – no one came to look for him; no one thought to check the side of the float or the trap door that <em>wasn’t</em> blocked by cement.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Not even Gob.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Poor, poor Gob. Tony had been hoping he would have figured it out – the guy had helped build the float, had he not? Surely he knew there was a trap door in there. But then again, Tony’s always been a great liar, and his convincing performance this time might have been a little <em>too</em> good for his own good.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Damn it! <em>Damn it</em>! Things might have worked out perfectly, but only for the gay mafia. Tony’s feeling a level of guilt he hadn’t thought was even <em>possible</em>. Having to say no to Gob’s plan… <em>hit the road together, share a room</em>… was the cruelest twist fate could’ve dealt today. He’d wanted more than anything to say yes, to accept the float for what it really was: a grand romantic gesture, begging him to come back.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And that’s the other thing, too. You don’t build a float like that for a guy who you’ve been on a couple of fake dates with because you’re hoping to get revenge on him. You <em>do</em> build a float like that for a guy who you fell in love with for real, who you had gay sex with for real, <em>who called you the morning after and acted like he didn’t remember it</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob remembers Cinco. Tony’s sure of it now. He’d been a little suspicious ever since that first phone call, when he’d heard the longing in Gob’s voice for the first time since that night, but it’s practically undeniable at this point. It all makes sense now – <em>of course</em> Gob hadn’t ever called him back that first morning. What do you even say to a guy who begs you not to take a forget-me-now and then acts like he went off and took one himself?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And Tony’d had no choice but to double down on that story, because it wasn’t like he could admit – first of all, that he’d lied in the first place, and secondly that he’d had sex with Gob – in front of that <em>entire</em> holiday crowd, gay mafia included. At least his forgetfulness facade had meant Gob kept quiet about Cinco too – poor guy hadn’t even known the mics were rigged, and if he’d accidentally outed himself in front of everyone… Tony’s not sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself. And the way that Gob <em>did</em> end up outing himself, which Tony had overheard from his hiding spot under the float, can easily be written off as just part of the trick.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But poor, <em>poor</em> Gob. Tony can’t get over how <em>destroyed</em> Gob had sounded when he never popped back out. He’d been hoping that, since he’d moved his headset to the mannequin as he swapped places with it, he wouldn’t have to hear Gob’s reaction to his disappearance, but he’d had no such luck. It took a great deal of self-restraint not to pop out from under the float when he heard the word <em>wonder</em>, and even more not to pop out when Gob’s confusion turned to panic and he switched to yelling, “<em>Tony</em>?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’d wanted to tell Gob, of course. About the gay mafia, about <em>everything</em>, but at the very least that he was okay. He knows what Gob must’ve thought when he flung open the closet door to find nothing but cement. But the <em>contract</em>, the stupid fucking <em>contract</em> – it expressly prohibits anything of the sort. So he’d stayed put down there silently until Gob’s voice faded, and then he’d made a run for it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The unmarked car the gay mafia has waiting for him is two blocks over, exactly where they’d said it would be, and the fact that the news crews have all left by now means he gets there and into the backseat undetected.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Did he look upset to you guys?” Tony asks as the door shuts. The car is already moving, heading for the airport where his private flight to Branson awaits him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The two goons in the front exchange glances, but it’s Argyle Austero beside him who responds. “He’ll get over it,” he says coolly, not even bothering to look up from his nail file.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony interprets that as a yes, and his heart sinks. He’d been hoping Argyle would offer him a denial, even if only to spare his feelings – feelings, of course, that Argyle doesn’t know he has. Feelings that technically exonerate him from the crime of being fake-gay, feelings that he’s now <em>beyond</em> certain are mutual – feelings that, now, it’s too late to do anything about, because Tony Wonder, Gay Magician, is already dead and gone.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s <em>not</em> dead and gone.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob is sure of it. He’s <em>sure</em>. He’s almost full-circle into what certain theralysts would undoubtedly refer to as ‘the psychological concept known as denial’ at this point, but he’s <em>sure</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It’s the <em>only</em> thing he’s sure of anymore, too. He doesn’t know what that <em>thing</em> was that the gay mafia gave him to get rid of – it <em>wasn’t</em> Tony, though. It <em>couldn’t have been</em> Tony. For one, it didn’t smell like him – not like alive-Tony, and not like dead bodies are supposed to smell either. Even though it looked like him(the top of his head, anyway; Gob couldn’t bring himself to pull back the cover and look at the face), even though it was the exact size and shape of his body(<em>his body that fit so well against Gob’s</em>) – it wasn’t him. That thing was completely <em>lifeless</em> – not even in a dead-body kind of way, but in a never-was-alive-to-start-with kind of way. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Tony.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And whatever it was, it’s Buster’s problem now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob has his own problems, anyway, just as he has his own things he’s unsure of. In fact, both of those are kind of <em>same</em> at the moment, because he doesn’t know what he’s going to tell the mafia about how the conversion therapy went, and he <em>especially</em> doesn’t know what the hell just happened out there. He’s barricaded himself into the bathroom, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to jerk himself off or be sick.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He was gay, he was <em>sure</em> he was gay; he’s never felt about a woman the way he feels about Tony – but he’s got a hard-on in his pants right now and it isn’t going away. And it happened while he was looking at a woman, so does that mean he’s straight? Did the conversion therapy work, even though he didn’t exactly go through with it? He doesn’t want to fuck that chick – in fact, the thought of doing so is making him pretty nauseous – but <em>still</em>, he got hard looking at a <em>woman</em>. That has to mean <em>something</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Of course, it’s happened before. It used to happen all the time, back when he thought he was straight. It was never really the woman herself that got him excited, really, but the thought of getting off and the anticipation of physical intimacy. And even back then, it happened with men too. So what’s changed? What is it about this woman, with her mediocre chest and her hideous sweater and her Tony Wonder necklace, that’s gotten him so aroused?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">What if Cinco was a one-time thing? What if he’s <em>been</em> straight this entire time? That’s what he’s been trying to convince himself for months, so why is the possibility suddenly so distressing?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He decides the least he can do is take care of his boner while he tries to figure it out. Orgasms always make him feel better when he’s seriously questioning his sexuality, at least until the euphoria fades and he’s left with all the shame and guilt and <em>vulnerability</em> and tears that make him look pathetic to whatever nameless faceless woman he’s spending the night with. So he doesn’t think about the women. He thinks about <em>Tony</em>, who had a face like his but <em>same</em>. He’s been thinking about Tony anyway, for some reason, ever since he saw that woman’s chest. And it’s not like he hasn’t done this exact same thing while thinking about Tony every single day since(even before) Cinco.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He unzips his pants, then reaches inside his underwear, freeing his erection and palming himself. He’s already incredibly sensitive down there, just from imagining that it’s Tony’s hand feeling him up instead of his own, and a quiet moan slips past his lips. He remembers how much Tony enjoyed his moans, and the way Tony’s cock felt in his mouth and in his ass, and the way Tony sucked him off, and he strokes himself a little faster.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He starts thinking about other things, too, things that never happened but that Tony said he wanted to do, things like bending him over and fucking him senseless, and that combined with the memories nearly drives him insane. He increases his pace even more, too worked up to try and slow down or draw it out, and he feels himself already approaching the finish line.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, <em>Tony </em><em>Wonder</em>,” he moans, caught up in the feeling, and hearing the name spoken out loud is enough to send him over the edge. Suddenly he’s cumming, whimpering as he empties his balls all over the mirror, and the orgasm leaves his legs trembling despite how quickly it came on.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It works, but only for a moment – by the time he’s finished cleaning up his mess, all the feelings he’d been trying to avoid are back, the uncertainty and the doubt and the self-loathing. The incriminating boner is gone, but the question remains.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><em>Is he straight now</em>?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Straight away, Branson turns out to be even more of a drag than Tony had anticipated.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For one thing, his ‘accommodations’, so generously provided to him by the gay mafia, consist solely of a shithole motel room. He <em>knows</em> there are nicer hotels in Branson, too, because he drives past them every day on his way to work. He would’ve thought, since the cement business seems to be such a lucrative industry, these guys would’ve been able to splurge a little, but apparently not. Of course, they’re probably expecting him to buy his own place sooner or later, which he’s hesitant to do – he refuses to accept the possibility that he might <em>actually</em> have to stay here long enough for that to make sense.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s keeping his place in California, in any case – one day, whether next week or (god forbid)seven years from now when the contract is up, he <em>will</em> return to it. He’ll return to California, where the humidity doesn’t make his hair so frizzy he has to double up on hair gel, where magicians such as himself are treated by at least <em>some</em> people with <em>respect</em>, where (he hopes, at least)Gob will still be waiting for him, and he’ll finally have the chance to explain himself.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He spends a lot of his time now – that is, when he’s not prepping for a show that no one appreciates, getting drunk alone in his motel room with what appears to be an extended family of roaches and/or what sounds suspiciously like a small army of rodents, or being mistaken for the janitor by the guy who should probably recognize his face by now, considering he’s doing <em>three shows a day</em> there, for fuck’s sake – daydreaming about the day he’ll finally get to go home. He regrets telling Yakov Smirnoff he was a fan – it’s like, as soon as he said that, even if it was only halfway true, even if he was mostly saying it to play nice with a guy he’s being forced to work for now, he became somehow <em>lesser</em> in his eyes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony doesn’t like feeling lesser. He hasn’t felt lesser in a long time, not since the beginnings of his career. This, however, is much worse than the beginnings of his career – when you’re young and just starting out, there’s nowhere to go but up. When you’re pushing fifty and back below where you started, there’s nowhere to go but <em>down</em>. He’s beginning to wonder if it was even worth switching places with the Tony Wonder dummy – surely being dead and encased in cement couldn’t be any worse than <em>this</em>. Those are his only two options – rock bottom or the bottom of a rock, and he’s beginning to long for the latter.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He thinks about Gob extensively most nights, and every time he wishes he could call him, contract be damned. The gay mafia took his phone, though, and he’d never memorized Gob’s number – it’d been saved in his phone as ‘Gobie’ from the beginning, which had earned him a perhaps-deserved side-eye from Sally. Oh, <em>Sally</em>. He misses her too. Not like he misses Gob, of course, but he misses her all the same. It was nice having someone to confide in, someone to scheme with, and now he has no one. No one and nothing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He hasn’t tried to make friends in Branson, or to get back in the dating game – after all, he wants to avoid at all costs a repeat of what happened with Sally in that hotel room, and it’s impossible at this point to think about anyone other than the man whose name he’d called her. He’s hoping, against all odds, that Gob will somehow find him here and bring him back. It’s a fantasy he goes to a lot now, when he’s lying on that old lumpy cheap-motel-room mattress and trying to fall asleep. If he can just get through one more day, he keeps telling himself, then <em>maybe</em>…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">When his gay-mafia-provided phone receives a call from a Newport Beach number, he answers it immediately. “Hello?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, Tony,” Sally Sitwell’s voice says. “It’s me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Tony replies. Hers isn’t the voice he’d been hoping for, but it brings him a bittersweet sort of comfort nonetheless. “Hey.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey,” she repeats, and then there’s an awkward pause. It’s been so long since they’ve spoken that neither quite knows what to say. Are they still in a fight? Are they on speaking terms again? So many questions.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“How’d you find me?” he asks eventually. That seems like the best one.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m a <em>congresswoman</em> now, Tony,” she replies. “I have my ways.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You talked to Argyle Austero, didn’t you?” he asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Obviously,” Sally scoffs. “I tracked him down from the cement truck. For a so-called mafia, those guys are <em>garbage</em> at being subtle. He explained your… <em>situation</em>, and, after some prodding, offered me this number so I could get in contact with you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Took you long enough,” Tony mutters.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I needed some time, okay?” Sally snaps back. “I think we both did. What happened in June wasn’t a great look for either one of us. I may have said some things I shouldn’t have said, and you <em>definitely</em> said some things you shouldn’t have said.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Tony agrees. If that’s her version of an apology, then this is his.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Plus, I’ve been busy,” Sally continues. “With the job, and everything.” She pauses for a moment. “But I have to ask, Tony. There’s one thing I just don’t get about this whole ordeal. <em>Why</em>?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why what?” Tony asks in reply, even though he very well knows.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why’d you do it?” Sally clarifies. “Why’d you go along with it, Tony? First of all, the ‘gay mafia’ – I mean, <em>really</em>? You’re in their crosshairs for being a ‘fake gay’? That sounds like a joke we would’ve made in bed together.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Tony replies. “I mean, I said it inside my head, but…” he trails off awkwardly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But <em>seriously</em>, Tony,” Sally continues, “why’d you – I mean, you’re <em>not</em> faking being gay. God knows you’ve proven that to me time and time again. Why didn’t you just tell them that? I’m sure they would’ve let you off the hook. Why’d you let them send you all the way to…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Branson,” Tony finishes for her, his distaste evident in the way he says the name.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, that,” Sally replies. Tony can tell she’s still waiting on an answer, though, and he tries to stall. He doesn’t want to explain his logic to her, because it makes less sense the more he thinks about it – even to him, and he’s the guy who came up with it in the first place.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So why’d you call?” he asks instead. “To break up with me, I’m assuming?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally sighs. “Let’s get real, Tony. We’ve <em>been</em> broken up. To be completely honest, I lost interest in you a while ago, and you… feel the same about me, to say the least. I mean, you’re <em>clearly</em> in love with someone else. The <em>one</em> time we tried to have sex since Cinco, you called me <em>Gobie</em>!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, but now the breakup is official,” Tony says.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I considered it official back then, but yeah,” Sally replies.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, now it’s official on both sides,” Tony counters.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, okay, Tony, whatever,” she concedes. It’s a small victory, which are the only kind Tony ever seems to get anymore, so he takes it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So why <em>did</em> you call, then?” he asks after a short period of silence.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Because,” Sally replies, “I was wondering – yes, Tony, I said it – what the hell happened to you. I was at that parade too, remember? I heard Gob Bluth suggest that you two hit the road together – and look, I know you better than anyone. For you to say no to that, there <em>had</em> to have been something wrong.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Tony says blankly. She’s brought up Gob twice now, though, and he can’t help but ask. “So, uh, how is he? How is Gob?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally sighs, almost like she knew this was coming. “Look, I don’t really know for sure, okay? I haven’t talked to him. I don’t particularly <em>want</em> to talk to him, either, and I’m sure you can figure out why. But he seems pretty torn up about the whole thing. I heard he went to conversion therapy. Like, for real. Not in a closet store.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s heart sinks. “So he’s straight now?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I <em>highly</em> doubt that,” Sally replies. “Conversion therapy is a scam, Tony. It doesn’t work. If anything, it’s just gonna make him hate himself. Which, as far as I can tell, he already does, so…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Tony replies numbly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“If it makes you feel any better, I doubt he went through with it,” Sally says. “The person I heard it from was Argyle Austero. He said the ‘gay mafia’ sent him there to teach him a lesson, kind of like the one they’re teaching you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So they got Gob too?” Tony asks. That makes him feel <em>worse</em>, as a matter of fact.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Apparently,” Sally replies. “But that brings me back to my question that you never answered. Why didn’t you – you <em>or</em> Gob, either one of you – just tell the ‘gay mafia’ that you two had slept together? Wouldn’t that have saved you both a whole lot of trouble?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why didn’t <em>you</em>?” Tony counters, still hoping to deflect. “Where was this ‘just tell the truth’ attitude when you stole that hundred grand from Lucille Austero? Wouldn’t she have just given it to you if you told her what you needed it for?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Fine, don’t tell me,” Sally retorts. “It’s no skin off my back. My Austero problem worked itself out in the end.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Mine might too,” Tony argues.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sally replies. “I don’t even know what to call what happened to you. I would say karma, but I’m pretty sure yours kicked in when you fell in love with Gob for real. So… double karma?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, that would make sense,” Tony says dryly, “considering it skipped over you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No, Tony, I got mine,” Sally counters. “I got mine when you called me <em>Gobie</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I guess you did,” Tony replies, chuckling slightly. “You’re <em>welcome</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, shut up,” Sally shoots back, but she’s laughing a little too.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’ve missed this,” Tony admits. “I’ve missed just talking to you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally sighs. “Yeah, I hate to say it, but so have I. We’ve been through a lot together.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, we have,” Tony agrees. “Hey, maybe me being here is your karma too.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know, as much as it pains me to say this, you might be onto something there,” Sally says. “I could actually really use you back in Newport Beach right about now. It’s a <em>mess</em>. My dad’s gone into hiding, he <em>refuses</em> to tell me why, and now I’m stuck trying to juggle running a company in his absence with being an elected official. On top of it all, that fucking Lucille Bluth keeps leaving me vaguely threatening passive-aggressive messages about endorsing her stupid border wall, and I’m just trying to-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wait, wait, wait, slow down,” Tony interjects. “What does any of that have to do with me?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally sighs. “Tony, I need somebody to take over Sitwell Construction.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And I’m the first guy that comes to mind?” Tony asks, hoping she can hear his smirk.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She sighs again. “I know, I know. It’s out of your element. But I <em>know</em> you. You’re… <em>consistent</em>, if nothing else. And I wouldn’t have to go through that whole hassle of screening new applicants, and it’d be a <em>real</em> job for you, one that doesn’t involve lying to yourself about your sexuality.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You really care about me, huh?” Tony asks, still smirking.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Fuck you, Tony,” Sally replies. “But yeah, I guess I do.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, for what it’s worth, if I was there I’d probably take it,” Tony admits. “Believe it or not, I’m a little bummed out about the whole magic thing right now. Three shows a day with <em>Yakov Smirnoff</em> will do that to a guy.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally bursts out laughing. “<em>That’s</em> who you’re working for? Jesus <em>Christ</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, hang on,” Tony says, embarrassed now, “I thought you said you knew my situation.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, well, I didn’t know <em>that</em> part,” Sally replies, still getting over her giggling fit. “Your friend Argyle glossed over some of the details.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Not</em> my friend,” Tony corrects. “He’s the reason I’m in this mess, remember? And speaking of which, I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could… you know, talk to him again, try to get me out of it?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sally stops laughing. “Yeah, I doubt he’d go for that. The hoops I had to jump through just to get him to give me your number… let’s just say there’s about to be an <em>unprecedented</em> amount of cement-related legislation hitting the House floor over the next few weeks.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Tony says. “Well, it was worth a shot.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Sally replies. “Of course, you <em>could</em> always – oh, I don’t know – talk to him yourself?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I can’t, actually,” Tony corrects her. “It violates the contract. He said <em>they’d</em> contact <em>me</em> if there are any new developments.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Bummer,” Sally says half-sympathetically. For a moment there’s only more silence, and then Tony breaks it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So I guess this is it then,” he says. “This is the last time we hear from each other?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I wouldn’t go <em>that</em> far,” Sally replies. “Obviously there’s no more illicit romance involved in our relationship, but we could still be… friends. I <em>do</em> have your number. And I know you must get lonely down there in…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Branson,” Tony reminds her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” she says again, “that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” he repeats. It’s true. He does. He’d never really tried to put the feeling into words, but <em>lonely</em> is an accurate descriptor.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But hey, who knows,” Sally says half-sarcastically after a few seconds. “Maybe Argyle will have a change of heart and let you come back sooner rather than later. Maybe you can take that job after all.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Don’t tease me, Sally,” Tony replies.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m not!” she insists, but her next words make him doubt that. “Besides, maybe there’s somebody out there who cares about you more than I do, somebody who’s willing to make the sort of sacrifice I wasn’t willing to make to bring you home.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony can only hope.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For once, Gob can do a lot more than hope.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s certain of two things – one, that he isn’t straight. There’s other things he can be, things he’s learned about after a lot of soul searching and even more replays of Drive by The Cars – things like bisexual(which, it turns out, <em>is</em> a real thing, even if it’s not the thing he is) or cis male, high butch(he likes the sound of that one). Things that he might not necessarily actually <em>be</em>, but the gay mafia doesn’t have to know that. The point is, there’s a way he can go back to the ‘not gay’ life they think he wants and still be in love with Tony.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And that’s the second thing he’s certain of – that Tony <em>is</em> alive. If he wasn’t, Argyle Austero wouldn’t have just handed him a ringing cell phone after listening to his plan, the plan about the wall unveiling and the deal to replace Tony’s contract. In fact, Tony wouldn’t even <em>have</em> a contract if he wasn’t alive, so there’s even <em>more</em> proof. This is it, the moment it’s all been leading up to – all of the blood, sweat, and (mostly)tears he’s shed over Tony, all of the times he’s blared that song on repeat, all of the times he’s purposely used the word <em>wonder</em> in the hopes that Tony would pop out of some nearby object and embrace him. This is the moment it all finally becomes worth it, and Gob’s heart is practically beating out of his chest.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You’ve got… I’d say around two minutes with him,” Argyle says. “Try to keep it concise.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The phone rings twice, then picks up, and Gob finally hears the voice he’s been longing to hear. “Hello?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Tony</em>!” he almost screams.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Gob</em>?” Tony asks in disbelief, cutting off his mic. He’s backstage right now, and his act is supposed to start in under two minutes. He’s not supposed to even <em>have</em> his phone, let alone be talking on it, but he doesn’t care about that. The only thing that matters currently is the voice on the other end, the voice he’d thought he might have to go the rest of his life without hearing. “Gobie, is that you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh-huh,” Gob almost sobs. He’d been trying to stay composed, damn it, but he can’t stop a tear or two from rolling down his cheeks. At least Tony can’t actually <em>see</em> him getting so emotional – although the gay mafia certainly can, and they’re giving him some <em>interesting</em> looks right now because of it. “Y-yeah, it’s me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, man, are you okay?” Tony asks. It’s probably not the question he <em>should</em> be asking, which would be something more along the lines of <em>how did you find me</em> or <em>where’d you get this number</em> or <em>what does this mean for our future</em>. The poor guy sounds like he’s getting all choked up, though, so it’s fair to say it’s the question he <em>needs</em> to be asking. “You sound like you’re crying.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m – I’m <em>not</em> crying, Tony, I <em>swear</em>,” Gob insists, even as one of the guys from the gay mafia offers him a tissue. “I’m just – a-a bug flew into my eye a second ago, a-and another one into my throat, and I-I-I-I – <em>I</em> – if you could see me right now, you’d <em>know</em> I’m not crying.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It’s okay, I believe you,” Tony replies, even though he doesn’t. That stagehand who can never get his name right is motioning for him to put away the phone, and he holds up his middle finger. <em>Fuck</em> that guy. “Still, I wish I <em>could</em> see you right now.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same!” Gob half-shouts. Forcing himself to dial down the enthusiasm to an acceptably chill level, he continues, “But I guess next week will have to do.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Huh?” Tony asks, his heart skipping a beat. He’s pretty sure he knows exactly what Gob means, though, and he dares to get his hopes up. This is it, this is the phone call he’s been dreaming of – shit, hold on, is he dreaming <em>now</em>? He pinches himself just to make sure, and when he feels that telltale pain he breaks out into the widest grin he’s had since leaving California.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I got you out of your contract!” Gob confirms, and this time the giddiness in his voice is unmistakable. “I – they – so I – the gay mafia – and then they told me where you were, and I found out about your cement trick, and I’ve got this plan, but I need you – it’s another cement trick, but this time <em>I’m</em> the guy who – but it’s not like last time when you disappeared, it’s just about this border wall thing my family’s doing-” The words tumble out of Gob’s mouth in an order that he hopes makes sense, because he’s talking faster than he can think and he’s thinking exclusively about finally getting to see Tony again. Slowing down somewhat, he finishes, “It’s next week. Can you be there?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony only understood about half of that, but two phrases in particular jump out at him. The first one is <em>it’s next week</em> and the second is <em>I need you</em>. The former is music to his ears; one more week and he’s out of this hellhole? The latter, though – even if he <em>wasn’t</em> in Branson, hell, even if he was still in the height of his gay magician career and next week was a sold-out show, he’d have dropped everything in a heartbeat after hearing those words from this man. “Next week, huh?” he asks, pretending to consider it. “Yeah, I think I can make it.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Cool,” Gob replies. Argyle is gesturing for him to give the phone back, but he’s not ready yet to stop listening to Tony’s voice. “So I guess I’ll see you then?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Tony says. That stagehand is coming his way now, followed by Yakov Smirnoff himself, and he can hear something about how he ‘won’t put away his phone’ and ‘keeps pinching himself and smiling like he’s on drugs or something’. Mouthing the words <em>I quit</em> at them, he returns his focus to the phone call. “I guess you will.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Sorry about jumping my line.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I don’t think anyone noticed. They were probably just so surprised to see me still alive.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Like you were blown away to see me alive?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>You disappeared during that closet bit. I thought that you were ghosting me to make me feel like a fool.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>No, look. I had to switch out with a mannequin in the closet and pretend I was in the cement.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Oh, no. Yeah, no. I figured that out to do the… but when the gay mafia dumped that body on me, you know, I-I just, uh… I don’t know, I thought maybe it wasn’t a trick.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Oh, so they wanted to scare you. My god, they’re such a bunch of drama thugs. Well, I might not have been dead, but my career was. I was doing three shows a day in Branson in the, uh, Yakov Smirnoff Theater.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>What’s he like?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Disappointing. Disa- uh, disappointing. Yeah, he treats you like an audience member. But you freed me from that. I still don’t know how you got those mafia guys to cancel my contract.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Well, I offered them a better contract. So I guess we’re just a couple of straight guys, huh?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>What a relief, huh?”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same. Big time, same. I guess I can go back to Joni Beard now.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>And I might make it official with Sally Sitwell. So…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Tony! Tony!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Hey. Yes, I see you. Cool out. One second. She’s, um… since her dad went missing, she needs somebody to run Sitwell Construction, so…”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I guess that would make us competitors.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I guess, uh, friendship is out of the question then.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>But, I mean, we could do other stuff.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Yeah, like with our hands.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Just hands.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>I’d like that.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Me too.”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Just hands!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Just hands!”</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Holding hands counts as just hands, right? Gob’s pretty sure it does. It’s just two guys, maybe/maybe-not straight, interlocking fingers and rubbing palms. That’s definitely okay under the ‘just hands’ agreement. The other part, though – the part where Tony’s on top of him on the couch and they’re passionately making out – that one <em>might</em> not be entirely heterosexual(or even heterosexual-<em>passing</em>) in nature, as amazing as it is to finally have the real thing after all these months of fantasizing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tony, is this – are we – can we do this?” he blurts out when they break for air, holding up one of his hands as a reminder. The other is still feeling all over Tony’s body, as are both of Tony’s all over his, and their hips are still thrusting forward to meet each other.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why not?” Tony asks in reply. “I mean, we’re using our hands while we kiss, right?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob nods. He is, and Tony <em>definitely</em> is. One of Tony’s hands is cupping his ass right now, as a matter of fact, and he lets out a little moan as Tony squeezes it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And besides,” Tony continues, “I think it was kind of implied, anyway, when we came up with the whole <em>just hands</em> idea. I mean, what kind of monster jerks a guy off without kissing him a little first to set the mood?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Right, yeah, totally,” Gob agrees, nodding again. “I mean, that’s – that’s what I was thinking too, so <em>sa</em>-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s lips are back on his, and Tony’s tongue is back inside his mouth, and Tony’s fingers are popping open his collar, which is more of an answer than anything either one of them could possibly say. He still has questions, of course, about Sally and Joni and whether or not Tony <em>really</em> forgot Cinco, but this is enough for now. This is <em>more</em> than enough for now. Right now, in this moment, he’s certain this is all he’s ever wanted. He’s hard already – he was hard even before Tony pushed him onto the couch; he got hard just from holding Tony’s hands and staring into his eyes – which he’d have been a lot more embarrassed about, had he not felt an identical bulge in the front of Tony’s pants as soon as Tony climbed on top of him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony wants this too; he’s sure of it, and he feels an overwhelming sense of relief. He’d been worried, even after he knew for sure that Tony was alive, that maybe Tony wouldn’t want to come back. That maybe Tony hadn’t left for Branson out of obligation to the mafia, but because of <em>him</em> – specifically because he didn’t feel the same way. That maybe the only person who’s ever understood him, the only person he’s ever loved, wanted to get away from him just like everyone else. He’s still not <em>entirely</em> sure, for that matter, that Tony feels <em>exactly</em> the same way that he does – after all, he’s not sure how long he can keep this <em>just hands</em> thing up when he wants… no, desperately <em>needs</em> it to be so much more than that, both physically and emotionally. But a little bit of Tony is still better than no Tony at all, so he’s willing to take what he can get.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And right now, what he’s getting appears to be a hickey, because Tony’s lips have moved down from his own lips to his neck, locking down onto his most sensitive spot – which Tony’s managed to find almost immediately, almost like he’s done this before… because he <em>has</em>, of course, done this before, back on Cinco, which he doesn’t remember? Unless he <em>does</em> remember, which would mean – <em>god</em>, Gob has missed the feeling of Tony’s beard on his skin. He forgot just how much it tickles, though, and he can’t help but giggle a little in between moans. Tony’s moaning too, sucking down hard, and the vibrations from his voice tickle Gob even more.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, <em>fuck</em>, Tony, that feels so good,” he gasps out. It’s not just what Tony’s doing with his mouth, either – Tony’s still grinding against him, and one of his hands has moved in between their bodies to play with Gob through his pants. Gob’s cock is throbbing, both from the attention it’s receiving and the anticipation of receiving more attention, and suddenly it all feels like a little too much. He’s starting to feel a little too <em>close</em> for comfort, especially considering his clothes are still on and Tony’s hand has yet to make direct contact with his dick. A little bit of precum leaks out of him, and he freezes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wait, wait, wait, Tony, stop,” he reluctantly insists, afraid to risk any further stimulation.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony obliges immediately, but looks at him with concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, no, I’m – I’m fine,” Gob replies, and he can feel his cheeks heating up. He can’t quite figure out how to explain to Tony that he may or may not be about to cream his pants if they keep going in a way that isn’t completely humiliating. “I just – it’s just, um, I haven’t – you know, I haven’t, uh, <em>you know</em>, fucked anyone since C– I mean, um, a while ago, so…” he trails off, blushing profusely, and hopes that’s enough of an explanation.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Oh</em>,” Tony says understandingly, his lips beginning to curl upward into a slight smirk. He can see the poor guy is embarrassed, though, so he quickly adds, “Hey, it’s cool. I get it. And, uh, <em>same</em>, actually. Me either.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh yeah?” Gob asks, and now he’s the one who’s sporting a slight smirk. “You and <em>Sally</em> hit a dry patch, huh?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><em>Well, that’s one way to phrase it</em>, Tony thinks to himself. In the heat of the moment, he’d halfway forgotten he’d even told Gob he and Sally were still together. He wants to come clean about that whole thing(well, maybe not the <em>whole</em> thing; the part about the glitter bomb proposal he’d staged an hour ago in an effort to follow through can probably be left out), and Cinco too, but now <em>really</em> doesn’t seem like the right time. Not when he’s straddling Gob like this and they’re both even harder than that godforsaken block of cement he had to pretend to be encased in.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Hey</em>,” he says, thrusting against Gob harder than before just to tease him a little, “do you want to talk about <em>Sally</em>, or do you want to take your clothes off?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“O-only if you take yours off too,” Gob replies, matching Tony’s thrust in a move that catches the shorter man slightly off-guard and causes both magicians to let out an involuntary moan.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony nods, quickly regaining his composure, although he’s beginning to think he might be in the same situation as Gob was a moment earlier. “Well, yeah, I thought that much was implied.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He jumps up off the couch, as does Gob, and in an instant both men are furiously undressing. Tony had only been wearing a button-up and some slacks, so he’s able to strip down a little faster than Gob, who’d been wearing an entire <em>suit</em> – and not even the same one he’d had on earlier at the wall unveiling, mind you. <em>What is it with this guy and suits</em>? Tony wonders, but it’s not like he’s complaining – the man certainly looks good in a suit. Of course, he looks even better <em>without</em> the suit, and Tony can’t resist shoving him back down onto the couch as soon as his belt comes off.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob eagerly resumes his prior position, even though his pants are still around his ankles and he’s pretty sure his left sock is only halfway off. That’s an easy enough fix, though. Wiggling around underneath Tony as their kiss deepens, he manages to free himself from the two garments, effectively reducing him to only his briefs. Tony, also in only his briefs, runs his hands along Gob’s bare chest, then down his back, slipping them inside Gob’s underwear and feeling up his hips and ass.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob wonders why Tony doesn’t just take the briefs <em>off</em>, but he’s enjoying the experience too much to ask. And besides, if Tony wants to tease him, two can play at that game. He slips his own hands up the leg holes of Tony’s briefs, then out through the waistband, caressing Tony’s hipbones while carefully avoiding Tony’s cock. He’s not sure who he’s <em>really</em> teasing, though, Tony or himself – he wants to touch it so badly he’s about to go <em>insane</em>. Tony’s apparent fondness for skintight undergarments leaves little to the imagination, and all Gob can think about is how he wants Tony’s dick inside of him – mouth <em>or</em> ass; either one sounds good, and both would be even better.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Suddenly Tony’s pulling away from the kiss, and his hands are no longer inside of Gob’s briefs. Instead, they’re grabbing Gob’s hands by the wrists, removing them from his own briefs. Gob starts to apologize, assuming he must be stretching them out, but then he realizes what’s <em>really</em> going on – his hands are being guided back to Tony’s waistband, set in position to tug the briefs down. Gob looks up at Tony, who nods as if giving him permission, then does it in one fluid motion.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s so in awe staring at Tony’s cock, thick and cut and rock-hard just like it was on Cinco, that at first he doesn’t notice when Tony goes for his own briefs. His own cock, thick and <em>un</em>cut but just as rock-hard, springs out and touches Tony’s, and he lets out a particularly loud involuntary moan at the contact. Now all too aware of the noise he just made, he blushes profusely, and Tony, finding this reaction adorable, leans in to give him another kiss.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It’s during this kiss that Gob remembers that Tony <em>likes</em> his moans, so he’s not sure what he’s so embarrassed about. He lets another one slip out into Tony’s mouth for good measure, and Tony moans back, maneuvering his and Gob’s briefs the rest of the way down their legs before discarding them on the floor.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So how do you want to do this whole <em>just hands</em> <span>thing</span>?” Tony asks seductively as he pulls away, his eyes shifting downward to where their cocks are still touching. “You want to do me first, or I do you first, or we both do each other at the same time?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same</em>,” Gob immediately replies, already spitting into his hand and wrapping it around Tony’s erection. “I mean, same time. You fuck my hand, and I fuck yours, and maybe we could also… make out a little bit more? I – I mean, it’s like you said, we’d be using our hands while we did it, so it’s not – it shouldn’t be…” he trails off, looking up at Tony hopefully.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sounds good to me,” Tony says, spitting into his own hand before leaning in to resume their kiss. He reaches for Gob’s cock at the same time, pumping it a few times before pulling back the foreskin and tracing a circle with his thumb around its sensitive head.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob squirms underneath him, unable to stay still, and moans deeply into Tony’s mouth. Tony moans back, then repeats the motion, causing Gob to let out a whimper. He’s not sure which he enjoys more – the fact that Tony’s getting him off, or the fact that <em>he’s</em> getting <em>Tony</em> off. He’s mesmerized, just like he was on Cinco, by the way Tony’s cock feels in his hand, thick and heavy and throbbing underneath his fingers as he strokes it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Ah, <em>fuck</em>, you’re so hot,” Tony gasps out, pulling away only long enough to speak the words. Not to be outdone, Gob pushes him away long enough to get in a couple words of his own.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You’re hotter,” he insists, thumbing the head of Tony’s cock, and Tony lets out a high-pitched moan, the end of which is muffled by his mouth reconnecting with Gob’s.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Not true,” Tony counters a moment later, pulling away again, and his hand speeds up as if to prove it. “You’re the hottest guy alive.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob is already close to the point where he can barely speak, the praise having gone straight to his cock along with what Tony’s hand is doing, but he still tries his best to one-up Tony as his hips buck. “No, that would – <em>fuck</em> – that would only be if – <em>hhhh</em> – if you were r-really in that – <em>oh, god, Tony</em> – block of cement-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He pauses, wondering why he’s never noticed how much <em>cement</em> sounds like <em>semen</em>. Is <em>that</em> why the gay mafia is so obsessed with the stuff? Of course, thinking about semen right now <em>probably</em> isn’t going to help him last any longer, so he pushes the thought from his brain and focuses on pumping Tony’s cock even harder.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>God</em>, Gob, just shut up and kiss me,” Tony gasps out, thrusting into Gob’s hand, and Gob is happy to oblige.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s other hand, resting on Gob’s chest for support, has suddenly found its way to one of his nipples – which are <em>almost</em> as hard as his dick is, so the light tweaking he’s now receiving feels <em>incredible</em>. His own free hand had been on Tony’s back, but he moves it lower, down to Tony’s perfect ass, and squeezes down hard, causing Tony to moan into his mouth. At the same time, Tony moves his thumb back up to the head of Gob’s cock, repeating that circular motion, and almost immediately he feels Gob leak a substantial amount of precum.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>, <span>Tony</span>,” Gob moans into Tony’s mouth, his hand fumbling to return the favor – he wants Tony to feel as amazing as he does, or at the very least be as close to the edge. He quickly realizes Tony’s leaking precum too, and he feels a <em>little</em> bit better about potentially being about to blow his load already. He’s trying to hold back, of course, because he doesn’t want this moment to ever end, but on the other hand(heh, <em>hand</em>), if <em>just hands</em> will be like <em>this</em> every single time…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As it turns out, though, thumbing Tony’s cock head was a huge mistake, because Tony reacts by stroking him so fast he doesn’t know what to do with himself. That, along with the little high-pitched noise of pleasure Tony makes, nearly sends Gob hurtling over the edge he’s been straddling. Holding back – what with Tony on top of him stroking his cock, and Tony’s tongue in his mouth and Tony’s cock in his hand – is suddenly taking literally everything he has, and he just <em>can’t</em> anymore. It’s all too much. He’s about to lose it completely. Reluctantly, he pushes Tony away.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tony – I-<em>I</em> – I’m – <em>I</em> – I <em>can’t</em> – <em>Tony</em>-” Unfortunately for Gob, however, he can’t quite get the words out, and his pathetic attempt at doing so quickly devolves into little more than a helpless whimper. Fortunately, though, a single glance at the state he’s in and Tony realizes <em>exactly</em> what he’s trying to convey.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Shh, shh,” Tony coos, his voice silky smooth and right in Gob’s ear. “Cum for me, Gobie.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob does, almost <em>violently</em> – the gentle coaxing is more than he can handle. He whimpers again, then cries out Tony’s name, his whole body shivering in ecstasy as his balls release and he cums harder than he has in months. His first spurt of semen makes it all the way up to his chin, leaving a trail all up his abdomen, and the second hits Tony in the chest. Gob has to close his eyes after that, too overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm to follow the rest of his cumshot, and he loses track of just how many times he feels his cock pulse out. Tony’s mouth is back on his before the feeling fades, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and then licking the semen off of his chin, and his entire body liquefies at Tony’s touch.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Holy <em>shit</em>,” he hears Tony say as he falls back down to earth. “That was so fucking hot.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob is a little loopy from the euphoria, but he still manages a crooked smile at the praise. He opens his eyes after a moment to find his vision still blurry, although he can see well enough to make out that he and Tony are both covered in jizz – which he expected. He can also see that Tony is still hard, meaning all of that jizz came from a single source, aka himself, which he also expected. What he didn’t expect, though, is the strained, almost <em>pained</em> look on Tony’s face that soon comes into focus, and immediately he shifts into panic mode.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“T-Tony?” he stutters, worried he did something wrong somehow. “A-are you okay?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, uh, no, I’m fine,” Tony replies, forcing a tight smile. “It’s just that I, um, <em>you know</em>, didn’t cum yet, and I was kind of <em>really</em> close, and then you sort of let go of me when <em>you</em> came, so…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gob says, relaxing somewhat now that he knows what the problem is – for once, it’s one he can easily solve. “You should’ve told me. We could’ve cum at the same time. That would’ve been hot.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, it would have,” Tony agrees, still smiling tightly, “but I wasn’t <em>quite</em> there yet, and you didn’t really seem like you could wait.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh. Well, I probably couldn’t have,” Gob admits, blushing slightly. “But here, let me-” he starts to reach for Tony’s cock, and Tony nods eagerly in anticipation. Gob’s hand, however, never makes it there – he gets another idea just before making contact and promptly withdraws it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony inhales sharply, swearing under his breath. “Gobie, what the <em>hell</em>?” he blurts out, desperation in his voice and in his eyes. “Are you gonna get me off or not?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I am, I <em>am</em>, I promise,” Gob insists, smirking slightly. He doesn’t want to torture Tony, and he knows how uncomfortable blue balls(blue <em>ball</em>?) can be, but at the same time there’s something oddly arousing about seeing a man who’s normally so composed get all whiny like this. “I just had a, um, <em>different</em> idea about how we could make that happen.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Anything,” Tony pleads, subtly rocking back and forth in a desperate bid to get some friction.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Are you sure?” Gob asks, reaching up to hold Tony still. “It involves a little more than <em>just hands</em>, if you know what I mean.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, I mean, when you think about it, hands was just an <em>example</em>,” Tony reasons, the words tumbling out of his mouth in rapid succession – Gob’s insinuation that he wants to do more than <em>just hands</em> is only making his cock ache even harder. “The point was we couldn’t be <em>friends</em>, right? The point wasn’t that we could <em>only</em> use our hands. There’s plenty of activities two men can do with each other that fall outside the acceptable boundaries of friendship.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, exactly,” Gob agrees, nodding. “So glad to hear you say that, actually, because...” he pauses for dramatic effect “…I want you…” another dramatic pause “…to fuck my mouth.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony moans, loudly, then quickly clamps a hand to his mouth in embarrassment. Deciding to pretend that didn’t happen, he asks, “Are you sure?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I am,” Gob replies, nodding again, his crooked smile on full display. “Scoot up. Sit on my chest.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony gladly obliges, bringing his aching cock head-to-head with Gob’s face, and Gob opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out to swirl around the tip. Tony swears quietly, and Gob reaches behind him, cupping his ass and drawing him forward, guiding Tony’s dick further into his mouth. Suddenly overcome with desire, Tony grabs Gob by the back of the head and thrusts forward, nearly forcing himself down Gob’s throat.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Immediately he pulls back, ashamed of his apparent lack of self-control. “I am <em>so</em> sorry,” he says, his face reddening.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why are you sorry?” Gob asks, confused. “That’s what I wanted you to do.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, but that was a little <em>rough</em>, don’t you think?” Tony asks, still embarrassed. “And not in a hot way. I don’t want to hurt you, Gobie.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tony, you’re not gonna hurt me,” Gob scoffs, although hearing Tony say that makes his chest feel a little funny. “C-come on! You think the guy who’s covered in jizz doesn’t know how to give a blowjob?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony <em>knows</em> the guy who’s covered in jizz knows how to give a blowjob, but he can’t exactly point that out without revealing that he remembers Cinco – which, again, isn’t a discussion he wants to be having right now. Fortunately, though, he doesn’t have to think too much about it – Gob is already taking control of the situation, guiding Tony back into his mouth. Tony moans softly, running his fingers through Gob’s hair, and begins thrusting gently forward, careful this time not to go too fast or too hard. Even if Gob says he’s fine with it, he <em>really</em> doesn’t want to risk hurting him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob moans too around Tony’s cock, enjoying both the feeling of having a dick in his mouth and the fact that he’s driving Tony crazy. He’s been wanting to give a guy a blowjob again ever since he got the wrong idea about what conversion therapy would entail, and the fact that it’s <em>Tony</em> who he gets to blow just makes it even better. This angle is a little weird, of course, and the position is certainly not anything he’s used to, but even though it’s a <em>tiny</em> bit hard to breathe like this he wouldn’t trade it for the world.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>, you look so hot right now,” Tony moans, gazing down at him, and Gob replies with another moan of his own. “So sexy with your mouth around my cock,” Tony continues breathlessly, hoping to feel the vibrations from Gob’s voice again. “You’re loving this, aren’t you? You love having me inside of your hot little mouth.” He gets his wish, along with a nod from Gob, and adds, “<em>God</em>, I’m close. I’m <em>really</em> close.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob moans at that too, incredibly turned on by the idea that he’s able to bring Tony back to the edge in so little time. Tony’s still moaning softly, his fingers still running through Gob’s hair, and his speed is increasing ever-so-slightly with each consecutive thrust – which Gob knows means he’s almost there, so he prepares himself for Tony’s orgasm.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Then Tony, sprinting towards the finish line, accidentally thrusts just a <em>little</em> too hard, hitting a place in the back of Gob’s throat that makes the taller man start coughing, and Gob, momentarily unable to breathe, draws his head back to get some air. Tony pulls back at the same time, also attempting to free up Gob’s airway, and unintentionally slaps Gob in the face with his cock as he pulls out. The contact, along with the visual, is enough to send him over the edge, and a frantic string of expletives erupts from his mouth as he realizes he’s past the point of no return.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob, thinking quickly, grabs hold of Tony’s dick, aims it towards his own open mouth, and strokes Tony through it, inadvertently giving himself an impromptu facial in the process – only a fraction of Tony’s cum actually reaches its intended destination. The rest lands all across Gob’s face, some even splattering up into his hair. He takes it all like a pro, absentmindedly wondering if he’s done this before. He knows one thing for sure: he certainly wouldn’t mind doing it again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Gobie</em>,” Tony breathes as he comes down from it, his eyes still shut tight and his face flushed. “Gobie, you’re amazing.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies, enjoying the view from below. “Reverse-same, I mean. Same for you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You’ve got a little something on your face,” Tony says, smirking, once he manages to stop shaking and open his eyes again. It’s the only thing can think of to say – that was the best orgasm he’s had since Cinco, which is obviously out of the question, and words can’t describe how hot Gob looks right now with his hair all messed up and a fresh load of cum on his face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh yeah?” Gob asks, also smirking. “Do I?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, you do,” Tony replies. “Here, let me just…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He reaches a hand out to stroke Gob’s cheek, resting his middle and index fingers there for a moment and allowing his sperm to collect between them – then, on a whim, lowers them to Gob’s lips. Instinctively they part, and Gob accepts Tony’s cum-covered fingers into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around them, sucking them clean, and moans softly as he does it. Tony breaks out into a grin, then repeats the process with Gob’s other cheek, biting his lip as he watches Gob savor every drop.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Even after several more iterations of this, however, there’s still jizz all over Gob’s face, and as much of a turn-on as it is watching him suck on fingers, Tony doesn’t want to make him eat <em>all</em> of that. He reaches behind Gob, grabbing a tissue from the box on the endtable.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey,” he says, dabbing at Gob’s forehead, “let’s <em>really</em> clean up that handsome face.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You think I’m handsome?” Gob asks teasingly – at least, it’s <em>supposed</em> to be teasingly. He’s definitely blushing a little, though, and the idea that Tony thinks he’s handsome is getting his heart hard all over again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Have I never told you that before?” Tony asks, tilting his head as he finishes his clean-up job. “Huh. Guess I just assumed it went without saying.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Gob replies, blushing even harder now for some reason. Suddenly feeling too many <em>feelings</em> at the same time and needing reassurance, he blurts out, “So did you – did you like that? Was it good? Was I – I mean, was <em>it</em> – was I good?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You were <em>very</em> good,” Tony promises him, scooting back down enough to give him a kiss that he immediately melts into. “Although, speaking of that, we should probably…” he trails off, and his eyes drift down towards their bodies, which are still covered in the aftermath of Gob’s explosive orgasm.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, yeah, totally,” Gob agrees, reaching for another couple of tissues. He hands one to Tony and keeps the other for himself, and both men, still eager for any excuse to have their hands all over each other, opt to clean off the other instead of themselves.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony gets up afterward to toss the tissues in the trash, and Gob lays there on the couch by himself for a moment wondering, much like he did on Cinco, what’s supposed to happen now – if <em>just hands</em> is over, then he’s supposed to leave, right? But he doesn’t want to, he <em>really</em> doesn’t want to, and Tony hasn’t asked him to, and besides, <em>just hands</em> technically ended the moment he put Tony’s dick in his mouth. What if that means he doesn’t <em>have</em> to leave? What if that means they can do <em>other</em> stuff now, stuff that involves a little more than hands?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“We really made a mess, huh?” Tony asks when he sits back down. He adjusts his position somewhat, leaning back and resting his head on Gob’s chest.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, we really did,” Gob replies, resisting the urge to hold Tony as tightly as he possibly can. He decides wrapping his arms around him is probably acceptable, though, just as long as he doesn’t make it obvious he never wants to let go.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“We probably should’ve done that in the bedroom,” Tony remarks after a brief silence, and Gob’s ears(along with something else) start to perk up at that last word. “I guess you’re just so hot I couldn’t help myself.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies. He pauses for a few seconds, then adds, “But, um, I mean, it’s – it’s not too late to do something in the bedroom too. I-if you wanted to, I mean. <em>I</em> could always go for another round.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I thought I felt something moving down there,” Tony says with a smirk, and Gob turns bright red. “But, uh-” he grabs one of Gob’s hands and relocates it to his crotch, where Gob can feel that he’s not the only one who <em>perked up</em> “-<em>same</em>. I could too.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Also-” Gob starts.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Also-” Tony says at the same time.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same!” they both blurt out, each moving to kiss the other. “Wait, but what were you-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No, you go ahead,” Tony insists.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, well, I was just gonna say, I guess this is the end of <em>just hands</em>,” Gob says.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I was gonna say same,” Tony agrees. “I mean, you <em>did</em> just get done blowing me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So we probably shouldn’t even bother just using hands in the bedroom,” Gob reasons. “It would be a waste, anyway. I mean, since it’s a <em>bedroom</em>, you’ve probably got stuff in there that – stuff that can be used for <em>other</em> activities, if you know what I mean.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“’Stuff’ such as condoms and lube?” asks Tony, who clearly knows <em>exactly</em> what he means.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob nods eagerly. “And, I mean, if you <em>don’t</em> have condoms and lube, I’ve got them at my place, so I could just run over there really quick – o-or to the store, which would probably be faster. You know, I might even have a couple of rubbers in the car, so if you want I can go check – and we could just use spit for the-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Gob,” Tony says, pressing a finger to his lips to shut him up for a second. “I have condoms and lube.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“In the bedroom?” Gob asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, they’re in the bedroom,” Tony replies with a smirk.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Then why are we still on the couch?” Gob asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony can’t help but chuckle. “Great question. Come on, I’ll lead the way.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He jumps up, motioning for Gob to follow him, and as soon as Gob does he takes him by the hand. Gob realizes he’s never actually seen Tony’s bedroom before, and the thought of finally getting to see it – in <em>this</em> context, even – is getting him excited in more ways than one. He’s almost fully hard by the time they make it through the bedroom door, much to his embarrassment – when Tony stops suddenly to flip the light on, he accidentally pokes him in the back.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Somebody’s eager,” Tony remarks with another chuckle and a grin. Gob’s still trying to think of a proper comeback when Tony pulls him down into a passionate kiss, and it’s then that he realizes Tony’s just as hard as he is.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” he gasps out when they break for air, his eyes shifting downward. Tony doesn’t say anything, just keeps grinning, then pulls him back down into their kiss. At the same time, he spins around, reorienting the two of them so that Gob’s back is to the bed. Gob’s barely aware that he’s walking backwards, or even that Tony’s walking forward, at least until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he loses his footing. He sinks down onto the bed, pulling Tony with him, and for a moment they just lay there like that, mouths still connected, each enjoying the feeling of being so close to the other.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Then Tony stands back up, breaking their kiss. “Lay back on the bed for me, would you?” he asks, trailing his hand along Gob’s chest. “I wanna get a good look at your sexy body. I barely got to see you while we were on the couch.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob obliges, but his nerves are starting to flare up. “I might’ve, um, put on a few pounds since the last time you got a good look at my sexy body,” he admits. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to say that – if Tony really doesn’t remember Cinco, he’ll just assume he meant the Amazing Jesus wedding illusion.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, <em>please</em>,” Tony scoffs, climbing up beside him on the bed. “A few pounds of solid <em>muscle</em>. You’ve been working out, haven’t you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Maybe,” Gob replies, that dopey grin back on his face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, you look amazing,” Tony says, tracing his hand over Gob’s chest again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Y-you do too,” Gob stammers. “I mean, you <em>always</em> look amazing, but-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s lips are back on his, and he gets the random thought that Tony’s lips are like a forget-me-now for all of his insecurities – except <em>better</em>, of course, because the pills get rid of <em>everything</em>, good stuff included, and Tony’s lips only get rid of the bad. He could probably even expand that analogy to include just Tony’s presence, but Tony’s lips are sort of a focal point for him right now. They’re kissing all across his jawline and down his neck, and Gob lets out a soft moan when Tony gets to the hickey from earlier. Noticing this, Tony deliberately drags his beard across it, and Gob can’t help but giggle a little.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony lifts his eyes but not his head, his bearded chin still resting on the most sensitive portion of Gob’s neck. “I’ve really missed you, you know,” he says to Gob.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies. “I’ve really missed you too.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And now that we’re finally reunited,” Tony continues, purposely tickling Gob with his beard, “I just want to kiss you all over.” He pauses for a minute, smirking, as Gob lets out another involuntary giggle. “Does that make me sound gay?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“R-really gay,” Gob gasps out. “So I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony grins, then goes back to kissing along Gob’s collarbone. “Imagine what the gay mafia would think if they could see us right now,” he says, looking up.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“They’d be shitting themselves,” Gob declares.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Yeah</em>, they would,” Tony agrees. He moves to Gob’s shoulders next, noticing for the first time just how many freckles the other man has, and briefly attempts to kiss each one individually before realizing the task impossible and switching to Gob’s chest. He presses a line of kisses straight down the center, all the way to Gob’s navel, then moves back up and kisses a circle around Gob’s right nipple. His tongue comes out when he gets to the nipple itself, briefly swirling around it before taking it into his mouth and sucking down.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He stays like that for a few seconds, long enough for Gob to start moaning, and teasingly lets go just as Gob’s chest begins to heave. Almost immediately, his lips are on the other side, pressing a second ring of kisses around Gob’s left nipple before taking that one into his mouth as well. This time, though, he can’t resist adding another layer to the experience, and he reaches lower, down to where Gob’s erection is resting against his stomach, takes Gob’s cock into his hand, and rubs its sensitive head.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His prediction is correct – Gob instantly turns into a whimpering, moaning mess underneath him, his chest heaving and his heart beating rapidly as Tony works his magic. Of course, being a <em>magician</em>, Tony’s enjoying this just as much as Gob is, and he doesn’t let up until he feels a bead of precum leak out between his fingers.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>, Tony,” Gob gasps out, his cheeks flushed, as Tony pulls away.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah? You like that?” Tony asks, grinding his own hard cock against Gob’s leg for a little bit of friction.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>, Tony,” Gob repeats, nodding enthusiastically.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Believe me,” Tony replies, “I’m only just getting started. The things I want to do to you…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He trails off, biting his lip, and Gob shivers in anticipation. Then, as though to finish his thought, Tony darts downward and kisses Gob just below the navel, carefully avoiding Gob’s cock with his lips but not quite with his beard. Gob, ticklish as he is down there, can’t help but giggle and squirm a little, and he grabs hold of Tony’s shoulders in an effort to keep himself steady. Tony looks up with a smirk, then keeps going, pressing an outline of kisses all around Gob’s throbbing erection.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He moves down to Gob’s hipbones next, tracing them with his fingers before kissing down the right one and up the left, then proceeds to Gob’s inner thighs, first using his hands to nudge them apart ever-so-slightly. Gob is still moaning and giggling and squirming, and his hands have relocated themselves to Tony’s hair. Tony considers objecting for a moment, but quickly decides against it – his hair products may be expensive, but this right here is <em>priceless</em>. He kisses Gob on the balls, and Gob yelps a little.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You okay?” Tony asks, just to make sure.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob nods vigorously. “Yeah, <em>fuck</em>, I’m fine, it’s just – th-that felt so – I’m a little s-sensitive down there, y’know, and-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Can I do it again?” Tony asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“P-<em>please</em>,” Gob gasps out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony gladly obliges, pressing a second kiss onto Gob’s ballsack, then a third and fourth for good measure, enjoying the noises that make their way out of Gob’s mouth each time. Then he kisses Gob on the base of his cock, and he likes <em>that</em> noise even more. Repeating the process, he slowly makes his way up Gob’s shaft, making sure to drag his beard along Gob’s entire length just to tease him even more, and when he gets to the head he can’t resist taking it into his mouth and sucking down, his tongue swirling around the slit.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He keeps it up for maybe thirty seconds, long enough for Gob’s hips to buck several times, before reluctantly removing his mouth from Gob’s cock. He knows he could probably make Gob cum pretty quickly if he kept going like that, but as hot as that would be he’s got other plans for tonight. He moves back up towards Gob’s face, kissing him once on the mouth before leaning over to whisper in his ear.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Roll over for me, would you?” he asks, tickling Gob’s earlobe with his beard and his tongue. Gob moans, then nods, turning over onto his stomach and giving Tony his first proper glimpse of that <em>magnificent</em> ass.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>,” Tony breathes, his erection now painful. He moves back down to the foot of the bed to get a better view, absentmindedly stroking himself, and he hears Gob chuckle.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Like what you see?” Gob asks cheekily, looking back over his shoulder.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You tell me,” Tony replies, resting his throbbing cock in between Gob’s cheeks. How is it possible that Gob’s ass looks even better <em>now</em> than it did on Cinco? He could probably cum from this if he started thrusting, just from fucking the <em>outside</em> of Gob’s beautiful ass, but he forces himself to be still.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’d say you do,” Gob remarks, grinning back at Tony.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I’d say same,” Tony replies, leaning in to give him another kiss on the mouth. He follows it up with a kiss on the back of Gob’s neck, then another one a little lower, continuing all the way down Gob’s spine to his tailbone. He stops there, his hands massaging Gob’s ass, then reaches up for a pillow.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Do me a favor, Gobie?” he asks, and Gob nods. “Get up on your knees for a sec. Let me slide this under your stomach.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay,” Gob replies, rocking his hips in anticipation as Tony places the pillow beneath him. “What are you gonna do to me?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, I <em>could</em> waste time explaining my magic,” Tony says, pretending to contemplate it, “or I <em>could</em> just get right to the show. How’s that sound?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“That sounds good,” Gob breathes, sinking back down onto the pillow, his hips now elevated. He remains halfway propped on his elbows and knees, keeping the latter far enough apart that his cheeks spread enough to expose his hole – his hole, Tony notices, that’s once again surprisingly hairless.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You shaved?” Tony asks, tracing his fingers around it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I waxed, actually,” Gob replies, then, without thinking(in his defense, it’s a little hard to when Tony’s fingers are so close to being inside him), adds, “You had it right the first time.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Huh,” Tony says with a smirk, pretending he doesn’t notice Gob’s little slip. “I’m surprised you’d go to all that trouble when you thought we were just gonna be doing hand stuff.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, no, well, see, I actually did it this morning,” Gob explains, blushing slightly, “because I knew I was gonna see you at the wall unveiling, and I thought afterwards we could maybe… well, that we could do this. I did it the day of the parade, too, actually, because I didn’t know about the… that you were gonna have to…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He trails off, all the <em>emotions</em> that parade had created still fresh in his voice, and Tony instinctively moves up to kiss him. He realizes, as excruciating as the weeks(months? he’d lost track of time in Branson) since that fateful July day had been for him, they’d been infinitely worse for Gob. He’d wanted to kiss him the first moment he saw him, which of course had been impossible – there were too many people around, including a few of those gay mafia bastards, and he hadn’t known for sure that Gob would even be into it – and even though he’s already kissed Gob too many times and too many places to count tonight, he decides this will be the one to make up for it. It starts out soft and tender, then gets harder and more passionate, and Gob moans desperately into his mouth.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Baby, I’m sorry,” Tony says tenderly as he pulls away, neither man quite registering the implications of that particular term of endearment.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I-it’s okay, Tony,” Gob breathes, a little flustered both from the kiss and the pet name he’s pretty sure Tony just called him. “Y-you’re here now, so, I mean, that’s kind of all I ever wanted. It wasn’t your fault, anyway.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, maybe it wasn’t,” Tony replies, a little flustered himself from hearing <em>all I ever wanted</em>. “But I’m still gonna be the one to make it up to you. Okay?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay,” Gob answers, his cock beginning to throb again in anticipation. “I-I think I can live with that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay,” Tony repeats, moving back down towards Gob’s ass, “so this next part might be a little weird, but I think you’ll enjoy it. Just let me know if you don’t, and I’ll stop. Deal?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Just do it, Tony,” Gob begs, more than ready for whatever Tony’s planning.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Alright, if you insist,” Tony replies, and Gob barely has time to think before he feels Tony’s lips against his asshole. Tony’s beard is tickling his taint, and he lets out a breathless laugh, both at the sensation and the fact that <em>Tony Wonder is literally kissing his ass right now</em>, then a moan as he feels Tony’s tongue come out. It licks around his rim first, then up and down his crack, then over his taint, finally returning to circle his rim again, each consecutive round edging closer and closer to the inside of his hole.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob is shivering and moaning, helpless giggles slipping past his lips as Tony’s goatee makes contact with his most sensitive areas, and every time he thinks for <em>certain</em> Tony’s tongue is about to be inside him it suddenly pulls away, receding to his crack and then his taint again. He’s about to say something(at least, <em>try</em> to say something – he barely remembers what words are at the moment) about that, in fact, when Tony suddenly pushes in. Gob lets out what sounds like a startled yelp, and Tony immediately pulls back out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>, Tony, wh-why’d you stop?” Gob whines, too turned on right now to be ashamed of his obvious neediness, and instead of answering Tony pushes right back in. Gob lets out another yelp, unable to help himself, but this time Tony, recognizing Gob’s cry of pleasure for what it is, doesn’t pull back, instead working his tongue as deep into Gob’s guts as he can get it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob, whimpering and moaning and not 100% conscious of what he’s doing, pushes his ass back into Tony’s face, trying to get Tony’s tongue in far enough to reach his prostate – as it is, it’s <em>just</em> shy of that target, so close he can almost feel it tickling him there. Without thinking, he begins humping Tony’s pillow, desperate to get some sort of friction <em>somewhere</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Suddenly Tony pulls back again, and Gob lets out another frustrated whine.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sorry,” Tony gasps out. “It’s a little hard to breathe like that, but <em>goddamn</em> is it worth it. Are you enjoying yourself?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I – <em>oh</em>,” Gob replies, blushing as he realizes he’s still humping Tony’s pillow, in full view of Tony himself nonetheless, and he forces himself to go still. “Y-yeah, I just, um…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Need something a little <em>longer</em>?” Tony asks with a smirk, moving up closer to Gob’s face, and Gob nods sheepishly. “No biggie. That’s what fingers are for.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Or m-maybe-” Gob starts, his blush only deepening, “maybe we could do something – s-something a little longer than fingers. Or-” he pauses, eyeing Tony’s cock “-I guess I should say, maybe a <em>lot</em> longer, i-if you know what I mean.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>,” Tony whispers, just barely resisting the urge to palm himself. “You sure? You’re really tight.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Not as tight I as I <em>was</em>,” Gob corrects. “Your tongue got me nice and relaxed. I mean, I’m still tight, <em>obviously</em>, but not too tight for – I mean, it’ll feel good. R-really good, for both of us. I’ll make you feel good, and you’ll <em>certainly</em> make me…”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He trails off, his mind drifting back to his various unsuccessful attempts to replicate the way Tony’s cock felt inside him on Cinco. His fingers, of course, had been way too small to get the job done, and the wand from his magic act, while more similar in length, had still been much too thin. That banana with the condom on it had been about the right size, but it had almost gotten stuck(he’s not sure how he would’ve explained <em>that</em> ER trip to the gay mafia if it hadn’t come out on its own). He’d been too embarrassed to just go out and buy a dildo, and he’d spent a lot more time than he’d care to admit wondering if the Tony Wonder dummy was anatomically correct(unfortunately, of course, he’d had Buster chuck it into the sea long before he ever thought to check).</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, in that case…” Tony replies, bringing Gob back to the present, and with that he relocates his left hand to the rim of Gob’s hole, feeling around it with his fingers before cautiously pushing one of them in. It enters Gob easily, the leftover saliva providing sufficient lubrication for a finger-sized object, and Gob moans softly as it drags against his prostate. Encouraged, Tony pushes in a second finger, again finding that Gob, even tight as he still is, has no difficulty accommodating it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tony, <em>come on</em>,” Gob whines, looking back at him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Let me just get a condom,” Tony mouths, and Gob, whose lip-reading skills could use some work, stares at him in confusion.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Huh?” Gob asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“A condom,” Tony mouths again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wha-” Gob starts, but before he can get the word out Tony’s reaching forward and pulling a condom from his ear.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No wonder you couldn’t hear me,” Tony says with a grin, resisting the urge to pop out of bed at his own phrasing, and Gob breaks out into a crooked smile. “You like that?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob nods. “Mouthing the words was a nice touch. I should start doing that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, feel free,” Tony says. “It’s not like it’s my signature move or anything. You know that’s the only reason I don’t want you doing my air quotes, right? The W for Wonder, it’s kind of my brand. Sort of like how I used to always use Wonder bread for my bread tricks, but people never really seemed to figure that one out.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, yeah, no, I got all of that,” Gob replies. “I might’ve been, um, using your catchphrase a little bit while you were gone, though.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, that’s cool too,” Tony says. “Keeping the magic alive, huh?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob nods. “I was kind of hoping if I said it enough times you’d pop out of something.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Guess it worked then,” Tony replies, grinning. “Here I am.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Gob says, also grinning. “Here you are.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, and here’s this, by the way,” Tony says, procuring the lube from a drawer in the nightstand. He sets it on the bed beside Gob, then takes a moment to open the condom and roll it onto himself. He pops open the lube next, slathering it over his cock and onto Gob’s ass, and Gob shivers both from the cold and the anticipation.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Do you want me to roll over?” Gob asks, recalling how they’d done this back on Cinco.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, that might work,” Tony answers, and unbeknownst to Gob he’s thinking the same thing. “That way I get to look at your face.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies, turning back over onto his back and relocating the pillow he’d been lying on to behind his head. He and Tony realign themselves into position almost automatically, with Gob lifting up his legs to give Tony access and Tony lining himself up with Gob’s hole.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You ready?” Tony asks, his dick throbbing with desire.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh-huh,” Gob replies, nodding enthusiastically. Slipping into his most seductive tone of voice, he continues, “Fuck me, Tony. I want you inside me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony doesn’t need to be told twice, and he pushes in instantly, letting out a moan as he feels the tightness of Gob’s perfect asshole for the first time since that night in May. Gob moans too, intoxicated by the fullness of Tony’s cock against his prostate, and both men only get louder as Tony pulls back and then slams back in.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know,” Tony says as he finds his rhythm, “if you lean forward a little bit I could probably kiss you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“O-okay,” Gob manages to gasp out, nodding profusely, and he reaches back, his hands fumbling to find more pillows to stack underneath his head. Managing success, he leans forward, and sure enough Tony’s able to lean in as well and lock their lips together. Gob moans into the kiss, as does Tony, the latter still steadily thrusting and the former nearly bent in half.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob’s caught in a tiny bit of a conundrum for the next few minutes – he wants to arch his back, but he also wants to keep kissing Tony, and Tony’s so short while he’s so tall that he can really only do one or the other. Then Tony pulls away for air, and Gob’s back arches instantly almost of its own accord.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Fuck, you look so hot like that,” Tony moans, thrusting a little faster, and Gob’s moaning gets a little louder. Tony reaches between them suddenly, taking hold of Gob’s cock and pumping deliberately, and Gob nearly loses his mind. He can’t remember if Tony had done that on Cinco, or if he’d been able to cum just from having his ass plowed – he’d been so overwhelmed by the <em>wonder</em> of being fucked for the first time that he hadn’t paid any attention to what Tony’s hands were doing. Speaking of cumming, though, he’s beginning to feel a familiar sensation in the pit of his abdomen, that convenient little warning that his load’s about to blow. It doesn’t help that Tony keeps going faster and faster, both with his hand and his cock inside of him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tony, wait, stop,” Gob gasps out, and Tony’s hand and hips come to a reluctant but immediate standstill. “I’m – I’m about to cum, but I don’t want this to be over.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“S-same,” Tony replies, a little out of breath. “About being about to cum, and about not wanting it to be over.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They remain motionless for a few seconds, long enough for each man to recede from the edge, before Gob speaks again. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Tony replies, and with that he resumes thrusting, quickly building back up to his prior speed. “<em>Fuck</em>, Gobie, you feel amazing around my cock,” he continues, prompting another moan from Gob. “<em>God</em>, you feel so good. Your tight little wet little hole – <em>fuck</em>, you feel so good. <em>God</em>, you’re so good. <em>So</em> good.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He’s not really sure what he’s saying at this point, but Gob certainly seems to be into it. He’s arching his back more and more, his eyelids fluttering, and his moans are so intense now that the sound alone is enough to bring Tony right back to the edge. Suddenly not trusting himself not to cum while inside Gob, or Gob not to cum while he’s inside him for that matter, Tony pulls out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Tony</em>,” Gob whimpers, and for a moment Tony’s afraid they’re both about to cum regardless.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sorry,” he replies, regaining his composure. “I had to, or I was gonna lose it.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob confesses, now slightly more composed himself. His cock is aching, though, his balls begging for release, and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to hold back even if they keep stopping every 90 seconds. “But maybe-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Should we maybe-” Tony says at the same time.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“-we should just keep going-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“-just keep going, yeah-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“-and then cum together,” they finish at the same time. “Yeah, same.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’d like that,” Tony says.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Me too,” Gob agrees, and neither quite registers how closely this exchange mirrors what they’d said about <em>just hands</em> mere hours ago.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You ready?” Tony asks, and Gob nods. With that, Tony pushes back in, motioning with one hand for Gob to lean forward. He does, and Tony pulls him back into a kiss, embracing him deeply as his thrusts become harder and harder.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It doesn’t take long at all for both men to get right back to where they were before, straddling the edge of ecstasy as they moan into each other’s mouths. Gob pushes Tony away, nodding wordlessly, and Tony nods back, reaching for Gob’s cock and increasing his speed simultaneously. Gob whimpers, and so does Tony, and the next thing they know they’re both cumming hard, each crying out the other’s name as he loses control.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony keeps stroking and thrusting as he rides out his orgasm, the pulsating walls of Gob’s ass only intensifying his pleasure, and underneath him the dual friction has the same effect on Gob. He winds up shooting cum all over both Tony and himself again, rendering their clean-up job from earlier completely pointless, but it feels much too good to care. He’s still shuddering in euphoria even after his cock goes still, even after Tony, sensing how sensitive his prostate must be now, pulls out and collapses beside him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>,” Tony gasps out, wiping the sweat from his brow, “that… was… incredible.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“S-same,” Gob replies, the words coming out as little more than a whisper. Tony leans over to kiss him, and he immediately melts into Tony’s arms, wanting nothing more than to be held during their post-orgasmic bliss.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know,” Tony says slyly as their lips separate, his arms still wrapped around Gob tightly, “I probably shouldn’t have kissed you just now. Or while we were fucking, for that matter.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wh-why not?” Gob stammers, his eyes wide, terrified Tony’s about to say they should’ve stopped at <em>just hands</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I just ate your ass, remember?” Tony replies, chuckling slightly. “I stuck my tongue in your ass, and then I stuck it in your mouth. Whoops.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Gob replies, and he can’t help but break out into a relieved chuckle of his own. “Well, I don’t really care too much about that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Good to know,” Tony says, still smirking. For a moment he’s quiet, just resting his head on Gob’s shoulder, and then he holds up the condom. “See what you made me do?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“That’s a lot of cum,” Gob observes, grinning. “Almost as much as what <em>you</em> made <em>me</em> do.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, well, in my defense, I <em>do</em> only have the one ball,” Tony playfully retorts, dangling the condom in Gob’s face. Much to his surprise, Gob reaches up, snatches it out of his hand, then sticks his tongue in it to taste.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You really like cum, don’t you?” Tony asks teasingly, and Gob’s face turns pink.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I really like <em>you</em>,” he replies, still blushing. It’s the closest he can say to <em>I love you</em> without it being weird. “Plus, you taste really good.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony wipes some of the jizz off of Gob’s stomach, then licks his hand clean. “Well, you <em>also</em> taste really good, so I guess I really like you too,” he says back.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob whispers, and Tony leans in to give him another kiss.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So what <em>else</em> do you like?” Tony asks a few seconds later, pulling away, as his mind revisits a certain moment. “You like it when I say you’re good?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“M-maybe,” Gob stutters, his cheeks beginning to heat up again. That particular weakness isn’t one he’d been fully aware of, at least not until earlier when he nearly came from hearing it, but it seems pointless to deny it now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I think you do,” Tony counters, smirking slightly. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies, giddy at hearing Tony say the word <em>future</em>. For the next few minutes they lay there in comfortable silence, switching over into a spooning position. They’re both fairly worn out, but not quite <em>tired</em> yet, and the question of <em>what happens next</em> lingers in both of their minds.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know,” Tony says eventually, “I’d invite you underneath the covers, but the sheets are clean, and we’re both covered in sweat and jizz.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Gob replies, realizing for the first time that everything they just did happened on top of Tony’s comforter instead of in between the sheets. He’s not quite sure what Tony means, if this is supposed to be his cue to leave, or if maybe-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So, uh,” Tony continues, stroking Gob’s chest, “I guess what I’m trying to say is, do you wanna maybe hop in the shower with me?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Same</em>!” Gob blurts out without thinking. “I mean, uh, yes. I do. I-I don’t know why I said same. I guess I thought maybe, since you’re asking, you <em>also</em> want to do that, so I just-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nah, don’t worry, I knew what you meant,” Tony replies, sitting up, and Gob does the same. “And you’re right. That <em>is</em> why I’m asking.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob repeats, even though he’s not <em>entirely</em> sure it makes sense now either. Tony’s already getting up, so he swings his legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to stretch before putting any weight down.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Careful,” Tony says, his tone half teasing and half concerned. “You sure you can walk after that?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob scoffs, but when he stands up he realizes it’s not as easy as it sounds. He loses his balance for a second, but Tony catches him before he actually falls. “You okay?” Tony asks, the teasing gone from his voice.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Gob stammers, blushing and a little embarrassed. That hadn’t happened on Cinco, but then again, he’d waited a little longer that time before he tried to get up. “Just a little unsteady, that’s all. No biggie.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony doesn’t seem entirely convinced, which turns out to be a plus – he insists on holding Gob’s hand all the way to the shower, despite the fact that, Gob’s slightly uneven gait notwithstanding, there are no further issues. Tony’s bathroom is <em>nice</em>, it turns out, <em>really</em> nice – the shower is more than big enough for two people to stand in without crowding each other, although that certainly doesn’t stop Gob and Tony from doing it anyway.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob moans softly as the warm water from the showerhead hits his skin, suddenly aware of just how much that lovemaking session took out of him. He’ll be sore in the morning, that part he’s sure of – but what he <em>isn’t</em> sure of is where he’ll <em>be</em> in the morning. The model home? That seems like the least likely Bluth property for him to run into his parents at, although the whole ‘are they/are they not getting divorced’ situation throws a bit of a curveball into that equation. Maybe he’ll just crash in his car. That is, if he isn’t <em>here</em> – he doesn’t want to leave, and he’s getting the impression that Tony doesn’t want him to either. <em>And Tony’s bed seems awfully comfortable</em>…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, the water pressure’s nice, isn’t it?” Tony asks, and Gob blushes as he realizes that little moan was audible. “I really missed this thing when I was in Branson. This is only the second shower I’ve had since I got back. Thanks for that, by the way.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You’re welcome,” Gob replies.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, I really mean it,” Tony insists. “Seriously. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well,” Gob says cheekily, “what we did tonight was a pretty good starting point.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh yeah?” Tony asks with a smirk, giving Gob’s ass a playful slap.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Gob replies, boldly slapping Tony’s ass right back. “If there’s more where that came from, I’d say we’re on the right track.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Careful what you wish for,” Tony says, reaching for the shampoo bottle. “You’ve still got jizz in your hair.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Huh?” Gob asks, confused – shouldn’t the water have taken care of that by now? But then Tony’s shampoo-covered fingers are massaging his scalp, and he realizes what’s happening. It’s cute – Tony’s so short he has to stand on his tiptoes, and Gob feels his heart get hard just watching him. He’s never seen Tony like this, in the privacy of his own home and the intimacy of his own shower, his usually-spiked hair soaking wet and sticking to his face, and it only makes Gob love(because that <em>is</em> what that feeling is; <em>Michael</em> was right for once) him even more.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Your turn,” Tony says when he’s done, passing Gob the shampoo bottle. Gob is nervous – he’s never shampooed another man’s hair before. What if he does it wrong? Then it occurs to him that, really, shampooing another man’s hair is really no different than jerking off another man’s dick – you just treat it the same way you would your own, and <em>voila</em>. Tony has no complaints.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">What Tony <em>does</em> have is a washcloth, two to be precise, and he hands one over to Gob while he grabs the body wash. He squirts a little into his own washcloth, then a little into Gob’s, and both men – much like they had earlier with the tissues on the couch – opt to scrub down the other, eager for any excuse to touch each other even now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They rinse off, and the next thing Gob knows Tony’s pinning him against the wall. His cock stiffens up immediately against Tony’s abdomen, and he lets out a low moan.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I thought you might be into that,” Tony says with a sly smirk, and Gob nods helplessly. He is, he <em>definitely</em> is, and even though he’s already had two mind-numbing orgasms tonight the thought of a third one is too much to pass up.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony drops down to his knees. “You blew me,” he says, feeling his way down Gob’s body to his cock, “so I think it’s only fair that I get to blow you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, fair’s fair,” Gob replies hastily. “You won’t get any blowback from me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I think the word is ‘pushback’, but same dif,” Tony says.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, I’ve heard both,” Gob counters, “but yeah, same dif.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony opens his mouth – but, as Gob quickly realizes, it’s not to reply. Unless licking along his shaft counts as a reply, in which case that’s exactly what Tony’s doing. If Gob wasn’t fully hard before, he is now, his cock throbbing even from this little bit of teasing. He widens his stance a little, leaning back against the wall for support, just to make sure it’s down low enough for Tony to reach the whole thing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony continues tonguing Gob’s shaft, then switches to the head, swirling his tongue around it as he takes just the tip into his mouth. He draws his head back, then forward, then back and then forward again, each time taking in just a little bit more, and by the time he’s progressed to Gob’s entire length Gob’s hands have found their way to the back of his head. His own hands are all over Gob’s hips, thighs, and ass, massaging him lightly while his mouth takes care of his cock.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob is moaning – <em>just</em> moaning for once, not giggling along with it – and Tony realizes he’s found the solution for Gob’s ticklishness: the goatee doesn’t tickle if its hairs(and Gob) are soaking wet. He actually kind of misses the laughter, though, now that it’s gone. It was a little odd at first, but now he sees it as an intriguing combination of sexy and adorable. He considers tickling Gob’s balls with his fingers to see if it’ll get the same reaction, but decides against it – the noises Gob keeps making are hot enough on their own. Tony had intended to just get Gob off this time, but his own cock is responding to Gob’s vocals in a way that makes him think that might not be possible.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Words are tumbling out of Gob’s mouth as Tony deepthroats him, mostly of the <em>oh fuck</em> and <em>Tony Tony Tony</em> variety – he’s afraid if he tries to say anything else, he’ll end up accidentally blurting out <em>I love you</em> and ruining everything. He’s also afraid he might fall over if he tries to move after this, but both fears are trumped by how incredible Tony’s mouth feels. His hips are bucking forward of their own accord, the finish line rapidly approaching, and this time he doesn’t quite have the energy to try and hold back for longer.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“T-Tony,” he gasps out, only slightly more articulate than he’d been on the couch earlier, “G-gonna cum.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony nods and gives him a thumbs up, his mouth too full of Gob to attempt a verbal response, although he does moan around Gob’s cock for good measure, and that’s perhaps what does Gob in. He whimpers as he slips over the edge, which is something he’s done consistently all <em>five</em>(5!) times Tony’s gotten him off, and Tony’s beginning to think he just can’t help it. God, that’s hot. Gob’s third orgasm of the night is long and intense, just like the first two, although it doesn’t produce quite as much jizz – which is okay in Tony’s book, because he’s not used to swallowing and he’s not sure he could’ve handled the usual amount.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob moans as he watches Tony swallow his ejaculate, dizzy from arousal, but it’s the little kiss that Tony gives his cock afterward that really makes his knees go weak. He’s already feeling like his body’s made of jello, no doubt as a result of cumming so hard so soon after the first two times, so that little act of tenderness(the same thing he’d done to Tony on Cinco, so does that mean Tony <em>does</em> remember?) is almost more than he can take. He very nearly loses his footing and slips, saved only by the fact that Tony’s there to catch him again, and instantly melts into Tony’s arms.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, <em>hey</em>, you okay?” Tony asks, holding him tightly and keeping him steady.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh-huh,” he replies, managing a nod. “H-holy shit. That was – th-that was – <em>wow</em>.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Took a lot out of you, huh?” Tony asks with a knowing grin, and all Gob can do is nod again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They stand there for a minute or two underneath the showerhead while Gob regains his senses, just embracing and letting the warm water flow over their bodies. Only when Tony’s sure Gob’s not about to slip and hurt himself does he let go, and only in its sudden absence does Gob realize Tony’s boner had been poking his leg the whole time.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You good?” Tony asks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gob replies, and then his eyes shift downward. “But, uh, what about you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey,” Tony says, “I blew you because I wanted to blow you. I don’t need anything in return.” Pausing for a moment, he adds, “But, uh, on that same note, if you wanted to jerk me off really quick, I certainly wouldn’t try to stop you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I do want that,” Gob replies instantly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I do too,” Tony admits.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Then Gob gets an idea – if he spreads his legs and leans against the wall again, he and Tony can make out while he jerks him off. He does it without a word, motioning for Tony to come closer, and Tony gets the message without either having to say anything. He leans in, his lips barely an inch from Gob’s, and reaches one hand back behind Gob’s head, the other making its way to the small of Gob’s back. Gob, in turn, places one hand on Tony’s back, the other reaching for Tony’s already-aching cock, and Tony lets out a moan in spite of himself as soon as he feels Gob’s grip.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, what can I say?” he says to Gob’s playful smirk. “You’re really, <em>really</em> hot.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies, and with that he both pulls Tony in for a kiss and begins stroking.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s moaning into his mouth almost continuously as he increases his pace, and Gob can’t help but moan a little bit himself. Even though he’s nowhere near hard right now, too tired to get hard even if he tried, what their mouths are doing feels really good, and Tony’s hard cock in his hand feels even better. Plus, making <em>Tony Wonder</em> moan is always a major turn-on. He moves his free hand down, wanting to play with Tony’s ball, but he realizes even as he does it that he <em>still</em> hasn’t figured out which one is the real thing and which one is the disturbingly realistic implant. In the heat of the moment, he decides to just pick a side, and Tony’s little high-pitched noise a moment later lets him know he made the right decision. Mentally, he breathes a sigh of relief – attempting to feel up a piece of silicon, or whatever that thing is, probably would’ve killed the mood.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m getting close,” Tony warns, pulling away for a second, and Gob nods. He’d kind of assumed as much, anyway, considering the way Tony’s hips keep bucking every time he pumps his cock. He increases his pace, reaching his thumb up to rub against Tony’s cock head, and Tony yelps a little, then suddenly goes very still.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob’s about to ask what’s wrong, but then he looks down and realizes the answer is nothing – everything is very, very <em>right</em>. Tony’s cumming hard onto both of their stomachs, shuddering in ecstasy as his orgasm takes control. Gob keeps on stroking until it’s over, kissing Tony softly on the mouth afterward, and he feels Tony turn to jello in his arms the same way that he had in Tony’s.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Whoa,” he says, their roles now reversed, as he keeps Tony from falling, and he’s suddenly aware again of just how <em>small</em> Tony really is. It’s easy to forget sometimes, what with his larger-than-life celebrity status and so on, but holding him like this, with Tony shivering in his arms, really makes their height difference apparent.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Fuck</em>,” Tony breathes. “Now I know how you felt.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies, still gripping him tightly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A moment later, Tony regains his balance, and Gob reluctantly lets go. Tony reaches up and grabs the showerhead, aiming it towards their stomachs to wash away any remaining trace of his DNA, then turns off the water.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“That was a fun shower,” he remarks, stepping out of it to grab himself a towel.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Gob agrees as Tony hands him a towel of his own. “Yeah, it was.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He fights back a yawn, suddenly feeling the effects of going three rounds practically non-stop over the course of a couple hours, and he realizes he wants nothing more than to just curl up next to Tony and fall asleep. He thinks about that, the logistics of it, as he dries himself off, and then some more as Tony tosses him a stick of deodorant, then even more as Tony blow-dries both of their hair. When Tony leads him back to the bed and pulls back the comforter, he’s still thinking about it, and he collapses onto the sheets almost like he lives here too – like this isn’t a <em>just hands</em> date gone <em>slightly</em> overboard, like he’s Tony’s <em>partner</em> instead of just the guy he invited over for hand stuff. Realizing his mistake, he quickly sits back up, but Tony doesn’t seem phased by it in the slightest.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey Gobie, I’m gonna go get us some water,” he says, motioning towards the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I’m <em>parched</em> after all of that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob replies softly, still sitting up in the bed he wishes was his own <em>and</em> Tony’s. As Tony leaves the room, he sits there <em>wondering</em> – wondering if maybe Tony feels the same way, if maybe Tony’s thing with Sally went about as well as his thing with Joni, if maybe that’s why he gets the feeling Tony’s really about to let him stay the night.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony returns a minute later, a glass of water in each hand, and he gives one to Gob before setting the other down on the nightstand, picking it up once he climbs into bed. Not for the first time, the two men down their water simultaneously, finishing together and placing their empty glasses on their respective nightstands. The difference, of course, between this and their second date, is that this time they’re both naked and in bed.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So, uh, listen,” Gob says after a few seconds of silence, “I could totally go for another round right now, but-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh, yeah, no, me too,” Tony interjects. “And it’s not like I’m tired, or whatever-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, same, I’m not tired at all,” Gob agrees. “It’s just, we did already go three times tonight-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same, and plus we just drank a lot of water-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So much water, yeah-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So I was thinking maybe-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, I was just gonna say maybe-”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Tonight we just… just cuddle and talk for a while?” Tony asks hopefully.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, just cuddle and talk,” Gob agrees, already snuggling up to Tony.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And maybe…” Tony continues, running his fingers through Gob’s hair, “…maybe we fall asleep together?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, just fall asleep together,” Gob agrees. “That’s perfect. Same.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Tony repeats, and for a while they just lay there, each silently worried the ‘and talk’ portion of this new agreement will lead to something uncomfortable. After all, they both claimed only hours ago to be involved with women they’re very much not involved with, at least not in <em>that</em> type of way, and the possibility that the other actually followed through on his earlier statement is enough to make each man very nervous. Tonight felt so <em>natural</em>, so <em>uncomplicated</em>, and facing the potentially much more complicated reality is something neither is looking forward to. They’d much rather stay like this forever, just wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s arms.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So,” Tony says eventually(after all, it’s now or never), “did you get back together with Joni?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob decides to tell the truth for once – something about the way his head is resting on Tony’s chest makes him feel like he doesn’t have to lie anymore. “No,” he admits, looking up at Tony. “We’re… not a good match.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Tony replies, hoping his body language doesn’t betray the enormous sense of relief he’s now feeling. <em>Same</em>, he thinks to himself.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What about you?” Gob asks, his heart rate increasing. “Did you make it official with Sally Sitwell?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony, too, is feeling uncharacteristically honest, and he runs his fingers through Gob’s hair a second time. “Nah,” he replies. “She actually… she dumped me. Back when I was still in Branson. Said she’d lost interest in me a while ago. But we’re friends still. She really is putting me in charge of Sitwell Construction.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh,” Gob replies, his entire body relaxing as a strange sense of calm washes over him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They lay there in silence for several minutes, just cuddled up together, and Gob drifts closer and closer to that sweet, sweet slumber he’s been craving. Tony, meanwhile, not so much – there’s still something else that he needs to come clean about, and he spends most of that silence trying to figure out the best way to do it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Gobie?” he says softly, unsure if Gob is still awake. The news that he and Sally are over might’ve relaxed him all the way to sleep, which would be cute, but Tony needs him to be conscious for this.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob’s eyes are closed, but they open immediately at the sound of Tony’s voice. “Yeah?” he asks sleepily.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I didn’t forget Cinco,” Tony confesses. “I just thought you should know that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob says, because he can’t think of how else to reply. It’s all he ever wanted to hear, of course, but it also catches him a little off guard. Another wave of serenity washes over him, and with it the feeling that maybe this is it – maybe he doesn’t have to run anymore.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Still feeling the need to explain himself, Tony keeps going. “I just <em>said</em> I did, because I thought <em>you</em> did, since you said you were going to, and I wanted to see you again, but then you never called me back.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gob just looks up at him, not saying anything, and Tony’s not sure what emotion he sees in those eyes, so he continues.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And then that whole thing happened with the gay mafia, and they were already forcing me to fake die for being a-” he pauses to do the W air quotes Gob thinks are so cool “-‘fake gay’, so it wasn’t like I could just admit we’d been together at that point, because that would’ve just complicated shit even more.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tony’s just rambling now, stumbling over the words in his rush to get them out in an order that both makes sense and doesn’t make him sound like an asshole. Gob is still staring up at him, but – much to Tony’s relief – he definitely doesn’t look upset.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Same,” Gob says again, smiling his crooked smile, and even though it makes no sense, Tony understands.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yes, that is the same ending dialogue from the flashback in my first season six fic. i debated ending this before that point so i wasn't reusing anything, but i decided that last conversation needed to be included for a true ~happy ending~. i added a little bit more detail into this version, so i think it's fine. if not then i guess sue me.</p><p>also i know it seems like i just skipped over the scenes where gob tries to get back together with joni &amp; tony tries to make it official with sally but truthfully i really like how i had written them the first time &amp; i didn't want to just copy and paste. so if you haven't read them already, you can find gob's scene with joni in the flashback in chapter three of my 'season six' fic, and tony's scene with sally in chapter two of my 'missing scenes from season six' fic. i had originally tried to put just a snippet of the dialogue from those into this one but it works better without it, trust me. also if you haven't read 'missing scenes from season six' i would recommend reading chapter five as well bc it's basically about the progression of gob and tony's relationship following the events of this fic.</p><p>parts of this took me way out of my comfort zone, so if you read the whole thing i would really appreciate any sort of feedback, even if it's just 'hey this really sucks and you shouldn't have written it'. and i promise i will actually respond to comments this time lmao.</p><p>and yes, if anyone was wondering, i AM still working on my series. i did take a break from it to work on this because i was feeling slightly burnt out on it after finishing the second part, but it is absolutely still happening. i have another idea for a blunder smut fic that i will probably write first if this one goes over well, but other than that it's my top priority.</p><p>anyway, thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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